


Not A Lullaby

by tzzzz



Series: Not A Lullaby - Roo'verse AU [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Class Issues, Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Nobility, PTSD John, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnant Sex, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzzzz/pseuds/tzzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John never joined the military and is a successful businessman with a family (and some secrets). He hires Rodney as a subcontractor and they navigate the difficulties of family, class, and business in a universe where male pregnancy is possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tables Turned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/681812) by [tzzzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzzzz/pseuds/tzzzz). 



> This is my long overdue help_haiti fic written for elemgi who requested a roo'verse future or AU. I have to thank elemgi for her donation and her patience (though she is getting 35,000 more words than she paid for). Also thanks to dossier and sporangia for all their help betaing this monster.

John Sheppard is not the most attractive man Rodney has ever seen, but he's close. How dare he sit so calmly behind his vast desk, _smiling_ at Rodney like that and looking so pretty doing it? Sheppard stands, holding his designer tie with one arm and shaking Rodney's hand with the other while meeting Rodney's gaze with intense hazel eyes that are both seductive and calculating at the same time. It's an effortless movement that speaks to Sheppard's experience. Born with a silver spoon, a waiting pouch, and if _Fortune 500_ is right, a practical business savvy combined with a creative, fierce intelligence.

He's the opposite of Rodney, who's a bona fide genius, but pretty much the definition of _nouveau riche_. But for an unregistered carrier whose father threw away the family fortune on mad science, Rodney's doing pretty well for himself. Well enough for the Sheppard heir to call him into a meeting.

"So, Rodney, you don't seem like the type for small talk, so I won't waste both our valuable time." Sheppard slides back into his chair with a feline grace that Rodney knows is designed to disarm. Rodney hates that he's falling for it, but Sheppard's studied slouch only draws attention to his most distracting assets - the commanding gaze, the soft lips, the way the suit pulls fluidly across a toned chest.

"The first smart thing I've heard all day." Rodney had been with his lawyers for three hours prepping this meeting and now that he's here, even his genius mind can't remember one of the mind-numbingly boring things they'd had to say. That's why Elizabeth runs the business side of things (whatever that may be) while Rodney takes care of the actual research. But Sheppard had only wanted to meet with Rodney.

"I don't want this to sound like a threat and trust me, if I wanted to threaten you, I would," Sheppard says, looking too much like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "But my lawyers told me, like I'm sure your entourage of suits told you, that I should just call in the traders, get them to drive down the price of your shares and buy the company. But I don't want to do that."

"You don't?" Rodney gulps. So much for Elizabeth's command to be calm, poised, and in control. She'd also told to him to show no weakness, which is ridiculous considering how obvious his fear always is, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

"I don't. McKay-Weir is a well-run company and merging with a giant like Sheppard Industries would destroy all the credibility you've built up as a small, _discreet_ engineering firm that can solve any design problem. Not to mention your personal reputation. My brother, Dave, would probably want to market _you_ instead of letting you do your work. But for this contract I need your expertise, not your reputation. The project is very important, and you're the only man who can do it. You see my dilemma?"

Rodney nearly trembles in the face of Sheppard's nonchalant shark's smile. Sheppard didn't climb to top of the DOD pork barrel for nothing. Of course, Rodney is cornered and when he's cornered he panics. "Are you threatening me?" he blurts out.

Sheppard leans back in his chair, looking put off that Rodney would be so uncouth as to point out that he's being threatened when Sheppard's the one rude enough to be doing the threatening. "I wouldn't call it that. I'm just explaining my situation to you. I don't like it anymore than you do, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles on this one."

"Well, what if I have my own _situation_ and that situation includes only being my own boss and not working with assholes who think they can get away with murder just because they're from a powerful Guild?"

Sheppard's smile turns predatory. He stands, moving around the desk and behind Rodney, making it awkward for Rodney to meet his eyes. "I think murder is taking it a little far; don't you? But, I should have known that you don't react well to sticks. So how about a carrot? This contract is bigger than anything you could imagine. I'm talking access to classified information and experimental technologies far beyond what even you could dream up. The thing is: I'm the gatekeeper. Sheppard Industries has the only contract with full disclosure. All the other contractors get bits and pieces without knowing what they're working on, but I've got access and I'm the only civilian on this _planet_ with the discretion to train whom _I_ choose, regardless of their previous listing as terror suspects."

"Wait, you mean _that's_ why they denied my security clearance?" Rodney can't believe it. He builds one model nuclear bomb in grade six and threatens to blow up his stupid class with it and he's banned from classified projects forever? It had only been a stupid joke because he'd been tired of kids making fun of him because of his father, his own genius and social awkwardness, and because he'd been the only unregistered carrier in the whole stupid Guild school.

Sheppard shrugs. "I don't make those rules. Lucky for you, I don't have to follow them. So, what do you say? Are you in?"

Sheppard doesn't even doubt that Rodney will say yes, which just makes Rodney want to say no just to spite him. Then again, Rodney has always known that the military is holding back a big secret. There's subtle evidence in papers that make small but important jumps in the literature at exactly the right time. There's the way promising scientists disappear into military contracts, sometimes for years. One of Rodney's classmates had gone to work for the Air Force and a year later her sister had come knocking on Rodney's door desperate to know what kind of astrophysics experiment could go wrong enough that they couldn't even return a body to her.

"I'm not going to, um, mysteriously disappear, am I?"

"Probably not," Sheppard grins. "But I wouldn't let that affect your decision. Imagine knowing something so important that the powers that be would bother to make you disappear."

Okay, so that is really tempting. "Fine, I'm in. But no disappearing."

"I'll do my best." Sheppard seems genuinely happy now. "Come back here tomorrow and I'll brief you."

"You can't do it now?" Rodney is well aware that he's whining, but he's not exactly a patient person.

"There's a lot to tell and it's coming up on six o'clock. Got to get home in time for Dr. Who."

"That's why the universe invented Tivo!" Rodney protests. But then he does a double take. How does someone like Sheppard even knows what Dr. Who is? " _You_ watch Dr. Who?"

"What's not to like?"

Rodney narrows his eyes. "Who's your favorite Doctor?"

Sheppard smirks. "That's kind of an intimate question for a first meeting."

Rodney briefly wonders if he is being flirted with before deciding that he definitely is. Whether that flirtation means anything beyond a simple business transaction is the real question.

"I'll save it for later," Sheppard continues. "This project is so highly classified that I'll be personally overseeing your progress. We have a long time to get to know each other."

***

Rodney wishes he could feel surprised about the whole aliens and wormholes and travel to another galaxy thing, but he's not. He'd seen the hints of it before - not just the disappearing scientists, but the predictable channels of information that lead from wild leaps in technology straight back to the military industrial complex. If Sheppard and company thought they were doing a good job of hiding, then they'd obviously never contemplated someone so insightful as Rodney, who had narrowed it down to: a) an underground think-tank where the US government raises genetically modified super-geniuses to make its breakthroughs; b) aliens; c) the Matrix.

Rodney doesn't harbor any secret desire for a Matrix-like environment. He doesn't need to know Kung Fu, so aliens are good, but a little too predicable for Rodney to bother to feel anything about it. What he _does_ feel is inspiration like he hasn't felt since he'd first learned that numbers could open up the gateway to creation, that physics made up the fabric of this vast and beautiful universe.

Sheppard looks amused when Rodney snaps his fingers at him, demanding data. "You don't want to hear more about the different types of aliens out there?"

"Yes, yes, little grey men, great for them. Sorry they had to land in New Mexico of all places, but I'm more interested in how you create an artificial stable wormhole, thank you very much."

"Actually," Sheppard interrupts. "You and I are working on hyperdrives. I can get you access to the wormhole stuff after we're done with our part of the project, but I want your focus, McKay."

There's a hint of command in Sheppard's voice and Rodney's head snaps up. It's subtle and compelling like hypnosis. Rodney doesn't take orders from people. That's why he started his own company and just because Sheppard has access to classified information doesn't mean he can boss Rodney around.

"But I can do both. In my sleep. With one hand tied behind my back. Genius, remember?"

Sheppard smiles, leaning in a little closer like he's imparting a secret. "I know you are perfectly capable of multitasking, _Rodney_ , but what I want is this project, finished and perfect. And I get what I want."

"Oh, you're supposed to scare me with your," he waves his hands in the general outline of Sheppard. "your corporationy ways and," Sheppard smirks, "your slinky hips! But you don't scare me and you can't manipulate me."

"Knowledge is power and I control the flow of knowledge," Sheppard rebuts. "Regardless of that, what we're doing is important. People are putting their lives on the line defending our planet from all the big bad aliens you can't be bothered to hear about and I won't leave good people out there without the tools they need a minute longer than I have to. So you're going to do your work and you're going to do it well, even if I have to spank you to get you to do it."

"Don't tempt me," Rodney mumbles. If Sheppard hears him, he doesn't show it.

"Here's a drive with all the data." There's an opaque panel on the side of the hard drive, making it look like one of Apple's latest space age designs, except Rodney's not familiar with it.

"That's a hybrid with Ancient technology." iAlien, Rodney thinks to himself. "We've already encoded it to your DNA, so it won't work unless you are within two feet. Also, there's a password."

Rodney rolls his eyes, but he's a little bit impressed by the gene coding thing. Speaking of which, where did they even get a hold of his DNA? Rodney knows the US military has been far more Big Brother than they'd like him to believe. But then he remembers, a long time ago, he submitted himself for Guild registry. He'd just had a bad breakup and a little too much to drink and it seemed like a good idea at the time. They hadn't found a paternal match for his donor, but the Guilds kept every sample they could get their grubby little hands on, and the right to distribute it if they wanted.

The Pleb-Left party had been right after all - Guild collusion with the military, Though Rodney isn't exactly surprised, considering that the Guild and the military had probably been in cahoots since the time of Caesar. However, the modern danger is even more terrifying. If alien technology can recognize a person's genome from their mere presence, then it can probably tell them a lot about their genes - too much, probably. Learning pedigree diagrams had been insulting enough; Rodney doesn't want to know what kind of social Darwinist ideas will come out of deeper gene analysis.

"You didn't have to go behind my back to steal my DNA through this Byzantine military-Guild-military industrial complex love triangle and you don't have to worry. I keep my whole system completely locked down. Nobody can hack it."

Sheppard sighs. "I'm sorry about that, but it is in the interest of homeworld security."

Rodney has to laugh at that. Sure, he recognizes the importance, but he can't think of a more ridiculous name.

"Besides, my employers are less concerned with hackers than kidnappers. So as a warning, the device also tracks heart rate and foreign substances in the bloodstream. Coding it to your genome just encourages people to kidnap you along with the device, so we added some biosensors to it. They're really sensitive, so don't try to use it drunk or if you're excited or scared or jittery from too much caffeine - you might get a strike team knocking down your door."

"But, they're not going to kidnap me. Are they?"

Sheppard shrugs. "Probably not."

"Because my brain is really valuable to you and to them. But it's even more valuable to me and I need assurances that it will be kept intact."

"Too late now, McKay. You opened Pandora's box and now that you know what you know, you're on the bad guys' radar. But it's good. Sheppard Industries employs only the best security forces and we are working with the military to defend you. So just relax, do your research, save some lives. It'll work out fine."

"Easy for you to say!" Rodney squawked. "You're one of the wealthiest men on the planet. You could build yourself a Fortress of Solitude if you wanted to! And you may know things, be very smart in fact, but just knowing what you've told me, I can build an engine that will take you to other galaxies!"

Sheppard grins at that. "You've just made my day, Rodney. Why don't you take this thing home and see what you can do?"

Rodney can't help but agree. Sheppard is magnetic as well as beautiful, but there's something cold in him. Rodney knows he's being manipulated - he's not stupid. But there's just something about John Sheppard. There's a vulnerability there, maybe, just enough to make him seem human rather than this perfect man in the perfect suit and Rodney wants to see more. God, does he want to see more.

***

The first time Rodney tries to open the files, five guys in body armor magically appear in his living room. After everyone calms down he talks on the radio to one Major Evan Lorne of the USAF, who seems annoyed, but somewhat amused. He says that about a quarter of the civilians working off the biosecure hard drives get either so excited or nervous at the prospect of opening them at some point that they summon a team.

Rodney finishes hyperventilating and calls the number embossed on an incredibly white business card. It's Sheppard's priority number, and Rodney doesn't know what's more priority than having his condo stormed by Marines.

Sheppard sounds a little tired when he picks up. But, then again, it's one in the morning.

"What's up, McKay?" he asks, not bothering to indicate that Rodney has clearly disturbed him.

"I just keep thinking about kidnapping. Major Lorne says I have the next twenty minutes to experiment to use the drive without hyperventilating or I'm going to have to travel to a secured facility to do my work. But it's like telling someone not to think about a purple elephant. Once they tell me I have to not be nervous, I think about the next strike team and kidnappers and how I'm in way over my head with all the security concerns and the intrigue and don't want to end up dead like Anne Simpson without a body to even give my sister. I've tried five times already and Lorne has called me each time. It worked in your office, though."

Sheppard doesn't sound frustrated, just maybe a little resigned. "Okay, McKay, just calm down. Stop thinking about the project for a second and tell me something about yourself."

Like that would work. "What's there to tell? I'm a genius, obviously. And you've read my file."

Sheppard laughs. "That tells me about your career, not about you. What do you like? Hobbies? What do you do to relax?"

Rodney generally works to relax, but Sheppard wouldn't appreciate that. "I, um, have a cat. Her name's Gretta. I tried to change it when I got her from the shelter, but she won't respond to anything else. She's stubborn, but she's a cat, so I wouldn't expect anything less."

Sheppard keeps asking questions about the cat, and then somehow they're discussing catwoman, then DC vs. Marvel, then Battlestar Galactica and then artificial wormholes. It doesn't surprise Rodney that Sheppard can actually keep up. There's a spark of intelligence to him that goes beyond the shallow world of business and into deep curiosity about even the theoretical. John might never have reached Rodney's level of brilliance, but had he not been born into the Sheppard family fortune and business, Rodney has no doubt he could've been some kind of scientist - an engineer, maybe.

Pretty soon, Rodney is quizzing Sheppard, who likes Ferris wheels and college football and anything that goes faster than 200 mph in addition to old scifi shows and math puzzles and things that go boom.

Rodney barely pays attention when Sheppard tells him to enter his password, and before he knows it, he and Sheppard are trading ideas about how to improve the hyperdrive schematics and arguing about whether Neil deGrasse Tyson is just a pretty hack or a real scientist. Then Rodney has a flash of inspiration about how to vastly improve hyperdrive efficiency and tells Sheppard to shut up, or even better hang up so Rodney can get some work done.

"Okay," Sheppard says. Rodney can hear him smirking. "I'll just call Lorne and tell him that there'll be no more false alarms, then."

"What?" Oh, yes, he'd had a problem with the biosecure features on the hard drive. "Okay. I'll, um, talk to you later."

"Anytime," Sheppard responds, sounding genuine. Rodney would dwell on the fact that they'd been on the phone for two hours, longer than Rodney has spent on the phone with anyone except maybe his sister, but it's a _hypderdrive_ so he doesn't.

***

Rodney works through the night and the next day then crashes for fourteen hours before waking up anxious to get back to work. Elizabeth has left a few messages on his machine, but she sounds understanding rather than irate so he sends her an email telling her to not expect him in the labs for another two weeks unless there's an emergency and goes back to the hard drive. She'll call if she finds new clients, but otherwise, Elizabeth generally leaves him to his work. That's why they make such great partners - Elizabeth and all the power of her noble bloodline take care of the networking and the business aspects of the company (their stocks have never been better) while Rodney does the science. He's never regretted the day she told him that she liked him a lot, but would rather start a company with him than keep dating him.

The hard drive seems innocuous in the light of day, just a small silver box with a clear crystal face on one side, but Rodney doesn't really want the cavalry to ride in again. He looks at his phone. Sheppard had said anytime.

"Rodney," Sheppard seems happy to hear from him, at least. "How's it going?"

"Two days and I've already worked around the limitations those idiots are putting on this project. Who is C. Kavanagh anyhow? Whoever he is, you should fire him."

"I'll take that under advisement," John laughs, though Rodney can hear a hint of seriousness in his voice. "Anything else I can do for you, outside the realm of HR decisions?"

"No, no, you've provided surprisingly complete information. What kind of material is this hard drive made out of anyhow, because anything less than a crystalline structure couldn't handle so many terabytes in such a small space?"

"Crystals, actually, but that's another story, for another time," Sheppard drawls.

"Well, the vast progress the military has made on the hardware side of things really doesn't compensate for the idiocy involved in the plans on your lie-detecting data device. It'll have to be completely reworked, of course, but at least the idiots have shown me a path purely by stumbling down all the wrong ones. But even I can't completely reengineer a hyperdrive in a few days, so I need to get back into the system."

"Go ahead," Sheppard replies. "You know you can do it without getting nervous, now."

"Oh, I thought you could maybe help, just to make sure there are no false alarms. I didn't mean to impose. I mean, you must be a busy man and everything. I'm sorry." Rodney isn't normally too self-reflective, but even he realizes that it's a fantasy to be able to call the CEO of a Fortune 500 company every time he wants to log on to the project database. Sheppard coddled him two nights ago because he's an asset and calling in the Marines constantly is a ridiculous misuse of resources. That doesn't mean Sheppard wants to be bothered.

But Sheppard preempts him, "Hey, Rodney, I liked talking to you last night, but rather than coaching you through typing a password every day, I thought I'd enjoy your company a lot better in person."

"In person?" Did Sheppard want to come over and help Rodney on the project?

"Yeah, in person. How about you swing by my place when you're done today? A reasonable hour this time, like maybe seven? I'll email you the address."

Rodney wants to ask Sheppard if this is a date. It sounds like one. In his youth, Rodney didn't have any trouble at all attracting women looking for an intelligent pleb to add to their family pedigree, even better that he had a z chromosome. But he'd always get buried in his research again and forget about his girlfriends. And boyfriends were even worse. They seemed to all lose interest when Rodney said he wasn't ready to start carrying immediately, as though that should get in the way of two people who got along and had great sex. While he's always known that a man or woman on his arm is just dependent on putting the effort in, he hasn't wanted to waste the effort for years now. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he hasn't been on a date in years other than the ones that Elizabeth has arranged for him at the few networking events he has been forced to attend. When did that happen?

"You don't have other plans, do you?" Sheppard asks, though he sounds skeptical of Rodney having any plans at all. Rodney would be indignant, except he knows that if Sheppard didn't give him a reason to take a break, he'd work through the night again.

"No," Rodney replies, even though he really does work better at night.

"Good. It's a date."

Sheppard says his goodbyes and hangs up before Rodney can even process it. A date? With Sheppard? Rodney would almost believe it's a joke, except they'd talked for hours last night and Sheppard had seemed to actually enjoy himself. Rodney thinks that because Sheppard deals with difficult people every day, maybe he won't mind one more opinionated scientist. Rodney knows his file has been scrutinized and Sheppard must know that he's an unregistered carrier. Maybe that's enough for him, though past experience dictates that anyone with Guild status won't give Rodney the time of day. Or maybe Sheppard just sees an opportunity to get laid. Whatever the motivation, Rodney isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He smiles to himself. A date with _John Sheppard_.

***

Rodney is nervous. Despite his good looks, charm, and overwhelming intelligence, he hasn't been on a date in a long time and he has never been on one with someone like Sheppard. Few noblemen would have any interest in an unregistered carrier. Rodney has mostly had girlfriends anyhow, but he's always secretly believed that he should end up with a man. Unregistered or not, his stupid biological clock wants him to carry.

But now he's outside a huge red-brick mansion on the outskirts of town with a perfectly manicured lawn and horses roaming out in a field nearby. If not for the size, it looks like something right out of early colonial America, like the Sheppards want to recall the grandeur of the first Pure Guild that sailed over on the Mayflower. Though it's hard to see beyond the bulky Georgian facade, Rodney can make out some startlingly modernist glass structures at the back of the house as well as paths leading into the woods and through what appears to be some intricate hedge-work. He doesn't know why he expected Sheppard to have anything more approachable and less intimidating. Sheppard's the type who's probably a member of one of those deep Guild societies with the robes and the bizarre underground rituals.

His palms are sweating and his heart beating so hard he's beginning to wonder if others might be able to hear it. He doubts he could open the biosecure hard drive now. When Rodney finally finds the courage to ring the chime, he's surprised to find a young man on the other side. He looks around fifteen, but he's wearing an x-men t-shirt that looks like it's made for a child - the kind with the cape attached to the back. He does, however, look strikingly like Sheppard, with the same dark messy hair, but grey eyes instead of green and one arm in a complicated-looking sling.

"Antony!" a male voice calls. It's deeper than John's. Rodney is preparing to be jealous before he remembers the sheer size of the Sheppard estate. Sheppard's family must, of course, have servants.

The boy grins at Rodney, but spins around (in rainbow-colored socks on the smooth marble floor) to run back towards a traditional butler figure in a tailored suit. "What did I tell you about opening the door for strangers?" the butler asks, patiently.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Antony replies, looking guiltily down at the floor.

"I know you get excited, but please try not to do it again."

Antony nods and then runs off, sticking out his good arm as though he's flying.

"Please excuse me, sir," the butler says to Rodney. "Antony is a special child in addition to his physical handicap." The arm must be a permanent thing then. "Mister Sheppard would appreciate your indulgence when it comes to him."

Rodney nods, still stuck on the fact that John has a son, not to mention a "special" one.

"Very good. Mister Sheppard is in the study and will be down shortly. In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you? Water? Some finger sandwiches, perhaps?"

Rodney nods enthusiastically. He's always been a nervous eater and his first date in years is a perfectly good reason to be nervous.

The butler nods and scurries off. Rodney takes the opportunity to look around, finding no less than he expected - a high ceiling, intricate columns carved into the white walls, a few pieces of expensive-looking impressionist art that Rodney has never even seen reproductions of. He recalls a lecture on the subject of art long ago at the Guild school - that the real collectors had no need to showcase their artwork, only appreciate it for themselves or some such nonsense. One of the doors is slightly ajar and Rodney can't restrain his curiosity. He might as well be Alice in Wonderland for all he knows about this life.

He expects a smoking room with a moosehead on the wall or the entrance to a wine cellar or some other elaborate thing. Instead, he finds a gigantic flat screen tv and a very comfortable looking couch with two teenagers curled up on it.

One has fiery red hair and freckles sprinkled across her nose. She's laying with her head in the lap of another kid, who appears shorter and well-muscled, with John's dark hair and serious hazel eyes.

"Hello there," the redhead purrs, rolling out of the boy's lap with a natural grace and confidence that Rodney recognizes from John. "I'm Bryn Sheppard and this is my pouchmate, Luke. You must be Rodney."

Rodney gapes a little. He wouldn't have guessed that the two of them were related, but they must both be John's children. How many kids does he have anyhow? And why is Rodney just hearing about it now?

Bryn catches Rodney's look of confused dismay but she only smiles. "Don't worry. Dad divorced before I can even remember. You don't have to fight for his affection or anything."

Rodney's less worried about a jealous ex-husband than he is about the _kids_. Of course he's always wanted a family someday in theory, but he hasn't had much contact with children otherwise.

"C'mon, we won't bite," the little mind-reader informs him.

"So long as you're good to dad," the other kid adds. Rodney is pretty sure he means it. Luke looks like a wrestler or maybe a hockey-player. He could definitely kick Rodney's ass without breaking a sweat.

Still, Rodney resents the assumption that he's stupid enough to treat an amazing man like John with anything but respect. "Of course I'm going to be good to him. He doesn't deserve anything but the best."

Bryn arches an eyebrow. At first he couldn't see as much of John in her as in the two boys, but with her the Sheppard is all in the expressions and not the outward appearance. "And we're supposed to believe that you're the best?"

"Well, yes. First of all, I'm the foremost expert in quite a few fields. Astrophysics, as a hobby, mechanical engineering, programing, all for research and development purposes, of course. Not to mention my successful company. And I think that as a person-"

"Excellent, you can help me with my homework, then," Bryn interrupts, striding forward to grab Rodney's hand and yank him towards a staircase at the back of the room.

Luckily, Rodney is saved by the return of the butler, who gives Bryn a stern enough look that she releases Rodney's hand without even a word.

"Mister Sheppard would like for you to join him in the study to enjoy your finger sandwiches."

The study isn't the old library feel with red carpeting and a massive mahogany desk. Instead it's a room full of windows and whiteboards with a small desk big enough only for a computer setup and a single stack of papers. The rest of the floor space seems to be occupied by toys. John is racing a remote control car around an obstacle course made of blueprints, paperweights and random sporting equipment while he yells into a headset.

"Well you tell Mr. Devlin that I don't care what clearance he thinks he has or what kind of knowledge he thought he purchased, I want him to construct the order to _my_ specifications or someone is going to get killed. He's lucky he doesn't have a strike team and a very angry Marine sergeant on top of him right now. Consideration for his daughter's condition, that's all. But he was talking to people he damn well knows he shouldn't have been talking to and he will face the consequences. I have a guest now, but I expect Mr. Devlin on the phone first thing tomorrow apologizing for all the damage he could have done and ready to submit to our government liaison for questioning."

John hits the off button with a fury more appropriate to slamming a phone back in its cradle than switching off a headset, but when he turns to Rodney his face transforms from cold, serious rage into a look of happiness so transparent and joyful that Rodney almost gasps from the force of it.

"Rodney, it's good to see you." He walks up to Rodney and guides him over to a pair of beanbag chairs in the corner, lifting up a plate of finger sandwiches as he goes. "I'm sorry about the call. Business. But, on a professional note, that's what happens to subcontractors who sneak around behind my back."

"I wouldn't--"

John grins. "You would, out of curiosity, maybe. But you're lucky that I like you enough to give you data to keep you occupied and away from temptation."

Rodney nods. He would probably get curious, but luckily he has no way of testing wormhole and hyperdrive technology himself, so he won't be in the same hot water as Devlin.

John doesn't seem interested in the point, however, giving Rodney another brilliant smile, this time tinged with a little uncertainty. "You meet the kids?"

"Antony and Bryn and Luke. That's it, right?" Rodney soothes himself by stuffing a few finger sandwiches down his throat.

"Actually you missed Will. He's at a football game."

"Oh," Rodney feigns interest. "What position?"

"Cheerleader," John grins. "Gives me a good excuse to watch the games at least. Luke does judo and Bryn rides, but Will is my little Henry. All he wants to do is throw girls around all day instead of getting physical with the guys."

"Let me guess, you were captain of your football team."

John laughs. "Yeah. I probably would have done a lot better at track and field or even soccer, but football was good for the strategy. Now that I think about it, I didn't actually play all that much, just came up with new plays and made out with the quarterback."

Rodney smiles a little at that image. "You were the all-American stereotype, weren't you?"

John's face falls a little but he still smiles. "More or less. So you, um, still want to do this?"

Rodney has no idea how a man so beautiful and strong-willed can look so insecure, so he grabs John's hand and pulls him over onto Rodney's beanbag, the finger sandwiches forgotten. "I'm not an idiot. Of course I still want to do this."

"Even with the kids? I mean, Bryn and Luke will be out of the house in a year and Will the year after, but Antony is always going to need my support."

Rodney has to admit that he is a little scared. He didn't plan to go from zero kids to four at the beginning of a relationship, but looking at John's full lips and his hopeful smile, the vulnerability that speaks to Rodney's own flaws and imperfections - like calling to like - he thinks that he and John could really work.

"Let's just see how it works out," Rodney says. "You have no idea how much I want it to."

John's grin is brilliant. "I think I have a pretty good idea actually."

The kiss is expected and a complete surprise all at once. John's lips are soft and agile, his hand on Rodney's neck warm and confident. He's gorgeous and he kisses with a slight edge of desperation that makes Rodney wild, pulling John over practically into his lap so he can tangle his fingers in John's thick hair and kiss down his neck until the shirt collar gets in his way. Rodney groans and reaches out to unbutton the shirt, but John pulls away, panting. Rodney can feel John's hard length against his thigh, but John only smiles, yanking Rodney to his feet and demanding they take a brief walk down to the stables before dinner.

***

Rodney should probably be nervous, but he isn't. While he's spent seventeen evenings just hanging out with John at his house since they met, this is their first real date, and the kids are coming along. Bryn, Will, and Luke are less than enthusiastic to be going to the fair with their family, but John assures them that all they're going to do is ride together and he doesn't need to see them the whole night until the rendezvous by the gate at eleven. Will has promised to look after Antony, so really, it'll be John and Rodney alone in public most of the time, if you don't count the fact that the whole Sheppard family is monitored by some electronic chip placed under the skin by the military.

Rodney is alarmed when he overhears Bryn and Luke whispering about this smoking hot guy they plan to meet at the haunted house. The second John has bought them tickets and they're out of sight Rodney can't help but turn to his boyfriend and ask, "Aren't you worried about that?"

John shrugs. "Kids will be kids. Bryn has a good head on her shoulders and Luke won't do anything crazy without her approval. They're determined to marry as a pair, and have been dreaming about it since my brother Dave let them see Beauty and the Beasts."

"You let your kids watch that Disney drivel?" Rodney asks, surprised.

"Dave and his family were staying with us at the time. Trust me, when you have five kids in one house, you worship at the altar of Disney. But, I agree. I try to tell them that it's hard enough for two people to find love, let alone three. And male/female sibling pairs haven't been so in demand since chromosome testing became available. But Bryn can be stubborn. I just don't want to see them get hurt."

"So what if they do?" Rodney offers. "That's part of growing up." Doesn't he know it. Rodney had been ridiculed as a kid. He'd found love a few times, but always let it slip away from him. Only now at almost forty is he in any position to really find someone. And John may just be that person.

John's eyes twinkle with just a twinge of sadness. "I know. Just wait until you're a parent - you'll want to spare your kids the pain of growing up."

Rodney looks away. He's not sure what to think about John's comment. It's clear that John has already had his batch, so does he mean that Rodney will have kids with someone else or that he might be willing to go another round? Rodney almost asks, but then lets cowardice get the best of him. John's family is wonderful, but only Antony might end up recognizing Rodney as a donor-figure. The rest are almost all grown up already. If John says this is it and that Rodney will have to find someone else if he wants a family of his own, Rodney's not sure what he'll decide.

Instead, he changes the subject, grabbing John's hand, "I smell funnel cake."

John laughs, drawing Rodney's hand up to his lips to kiss. "You're so predictable, McKay. Let's get you some funnel cake."

Rodney scarfs down the funnel cake while John spends ridiculous amounts of money on the shooting booth until he finally wins Rodney the ugliest giant electric-green stuffed tiger Rodney has ever seen. "That's horrific!" Rodney exclaims.

"We'll just leave it here, then," John says, looking disappointed.

Rodney sighs, grabbing the thing. "No, I can keep it. My cat might need something to eviscerate with her claws."

"Cool. What are you going to name it?"

"Name it? It's a stuffed animal."

"Stuffed animals need names, Rodney, or so my children have informed me."

"Fine. You name it, then."

John smiles again. Even in the twinkling lights of the fair, his smile brightens the surroundings. "Let's see. Big. Green. Dangerous." Rodney rolls his eyes. "How about Todd?"

Rodney might argue, but he realizes how stupid it would be to argue about the name of a giant green tiger. "Todd it is. Are you sure you wouldn't rather give this to Antony?"

"You know what? You're right. I should win something for Antony." John looks around and they finally find a game that offers a various assortment of capes. John is determined to win the batman one, but he can't seem to hit the mallet hard enough to ring the bell. After John has already given a very happy carny about twenty bucks, Rodney finally grabs the mallet from him and rings the bell with one swing.

"Okay, so now I feel like a girl," John admits.

"Why? Because you got beat out by a geek?" Rodney teases. "These things are all about directed force, not strength. You need the weight and you need to know how to apply it. Of course, I am totally stronger than you."

John rolls his eyes, but pulls Rodney close to kiss him. "I guess I can see the advantages of that." Rodney looks at John's smoldering gaze and really wishes they weren't in the middle of the fairgrounds, surrounded by strangers and children.

John accepts the Batman cape graciously, but drags Rodney off to do the basketball shooting game where he knows he can easily kick Rodney's ass.

They spot the kids a few times. Once hiding behind a trashcan as they watch Bryn and Luke flirt with some Goth kid over by the bumper cars and another time they run into Antony and Will to ride a spinning thing that almost makes Rodney lose his dinner. Antony, of course finds that hilarious.

But mostly it's just him and John walking through the bright lights holding hands and bickering about the safety standards of the swinging chairs and whether Batman could beat Mr. Fantastic in a fight.

When they finally make it to the Ferris wheel, Rodney is tired (he stayed up the night before working on the hyperdrive cooling systems), but John's eyes light up. "I had my first kiss in a Ferris wheel," he says, paying the ride fee without even consulting Rodney.

"Good for you," Rodney replies, not willing to admit that his first kiss had been in the grade six science lab because he thought that he and his lab partner were about to be arrested by the CIA and taken to prison for life without any other opportunities to be kissed.

John smirks, guiding Rodney into the seat and wrapping an arm around him. "You know I really, really like you," John whispers playfully. "I like, _like_ like you."

Rodney snorts, but leans further into the pleasant heat of John's side. "I _like_ like you too."

They kiss then, with the Ferris wheel starting to vault them up into the calm night sky and there's something of John's first kiss in it - wonder and newness and passion. Rodney blinks and he's practically in John's lap, undulating softly against him without any real intent to necessarily get off. It's just pleasure simmering through them where their body heat protects them against the breeze. Rodney can see why John likes Ferris wheels.

***

Things are good. In fact, they've never been this good, which Rodney finds more than a little intimidating.

He spends his days working on hyperdrive engines and wormhole theory - what was once his favorite hobby is now what he _does_ for a living, with the exception of Fridays, when he goes in to the office and makes sure his minions have his other projects on track. Surprisingly, it feels good to delegate and while Peter Grodin isn't the brilliant mind Rodney is, he is actually rather brilliant as a manager.

But as good as it feels to truly exercise his mind for a change, Rodney is becoming increasingly aware of how happy the _other_ things make him. He spends four evenings a week at John's place now and at least one weekend day with the whole Sheppard family. He tutors Bryn in math (she's already at the advanced college level) while John concludes yelling at his deputies in the Korean manufacturing plants. Thanks to John he actually now understands what is going on during a football game and finds that he likes it when he watches it with John and his children, all of whom are die-hard fans.

And he's even gotten to the point where Antony expects him on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and will go so far as to throw a tantrum if he doesn't show up. Rodney has always dismissed stupid people, but he finds it impossible to dismiss John's youngest son, who makes up for what he's lacking in mental capacity with sheer kindness and a type of unadulterated adoration that Rodney is sure he hasn't experienced since he was a cute bouncing baby who'd not yet done anything to intertwine people's love for him with hate, jealousy or annoyance.

That's not counting John himself, who is gorgeous, fiercely intelligent and surprisingly sweet. There's a vulnerability to the man that Rodney is proud that John lets him see. But there's also a sick thrill to watching John do business. He's at once both so laid back and so deadly serious. If words could do damage, John could level whole cities with his will to achieve.

But the second he hangs up the phone, John smiles like a true innocent, pulling Rodney to him and holding on with the kind of confidence only children show in the love of their parents - John acts as though Rodney was always there and will always be by his side; he doesn't even need to turn to look to see that Rodney is still there. Rodney, on the other hand, can't seem to stop pinching himself and wondering if this is really happening.

They spend whole days in bed, watching bad scifi movies and eating junk food or Rodney brings over the hard drive he's no longer afraid of and they work on the hyperdrive problem together. John isn't as smart or as knowledgeable as Rodney, but he has an intuitive understanding that allows him a creative _vision_ that Rodney can execute.

Then there's sex with John, which is beyond anything Rodney could possibly imagine. He'd never really come like a noble before, because none of his previous boyfriends were wiling to run the risk of children with him, but John is an imperial, so they don't have to worry. Rodney has never come so hard or so often than with John and sometimes he's left practically in tears by his orgasms. But John is no different than those other guys because when Rodney tentatively asks if he can return the favor, John declines, claiming that he doesn't need it - he's fine fucking Rodney and they don't need to risk a gestation.

The thing is that with the others the rejection never really hurt. Rodney was dying to know what coming like a noble felt like, but he understood the risk of gestation and wasn't entirely comfortable with it himself. But John is different. Rodney would gladly carry John's child and he's starting to fall so deeply in love that it's physically painful to be reminded that John doesn't feel the same. Then again, John already has four wonderful kids, something Rodney knew getting into this.

Or maybe the kids don't matter. John is so good with them. Maybe he would agree to have more children with the right man and Rodney's just not that man. This is a significant relationship for Rodney and if the society pages are right, it's the first serious relationship John has had as far back as Rodney could research. But they've never said 'I love you' and Rodney doubts they will anytime soon, even though he feels it. He couldn't stand to say the words and not have John say them back and he's pretty sure that aside from his natural reticence, John doesn't feel that way.

"Penny for your thoughts," John says, giving Rodney a poke in the ribs. They're lying in bed. John has somehow managed to get naked when Rodney was moping. He's certainly not going to tell the truth.

"You first."

"I was thinking that I'm naked and you haven't even noticed. What gives?"

Rodney sighs. He could just make something up, but he doesn't want to get so deep into this that he couldn't survive whatever end John has planned. "What are we doing?"

John huffs. "Not getting laid, I guess. Seriously, Rodney, you're kind of freaking me out here."

"I just want to know what you think we're doing. We get along, obviously. And I can tell that you're happy to have me as a diversion. But I'm starting to get, um, a little serious about you and if this is just a fling for you, then I think it's best that we end it now, because I don't know if I can stand--."

"Calm down, Rodney. Deep breaths." Oh, he's hyperventilating. How did he miss that?

"Okay," he nods.

"First, you're not just a diversion who I happen to get along with. Never think that. I care about you and I may, um, feel a little serious about you too, but I'm not good-- I don't really talk about my feelings. Just, know that I'm not jerking you around, okay? I'm in this too, as serious as you are."

Rodney wants to ask what that means. How can John be serious but still leave Rodney with this sinking feeling in his gut, like it could all come tumbling down any moment? John has already had one life - children, marriage, a thriving business empire. And he's approaching forty and still beautiful. John is the kind of man who can write his own story and chose his own destiny. He has the world at his fingertips. How can Rodney trust him to face that kind of temptation?

But then the look in John's eyes softens and he leans forward to kiss Rodney. It's a chaste, gentle kiss at first before turning hungry. Rodney reaches out to find that John is still naked and rapidly hardening.

"I want you to fuck me," John whispers into Rodney's mouth, nibbling at his lower lip. "It'll be so good. I've wanted you inside me from the day we met."

Rodney wants to ask why it's taken all these months for him to do it, if John has wanted it from the beginning, but he doesn't dare. Instead, he gives a lust-drunk nod, pulling John up against him and just devouring him.

"Oh, god, Rodney," John gasps, his hips stuttering into Rodney's.

Rodney bites down hard on the sensitive flesh of John's neck, before pushing him back so he can undress. It's even better then, with John straddling him, naked and beautiful. Rodney traces the pouch scar with one hand and rubs the other down John's flank, feel him gasp and sigh. John's eyes are unfocused, like Rodney has never seen before.

John practically growls, reaching for the condoms Rodney hadn't noticed him place on the nightstand. Maybe he was considering this even before Rodney's stupid melancholy mood. Of course Rodney would pick the night John wanted to give himself to him to start questioning their relationship.

"I'm sorry," Rodney whispers. And then, "I love you." He doesn't mean to say it. It just slips out. But John doesn't look scared or wary. In fact, he looks radiant, smiling before leaning down to kiss Rodney.

"I love you too."

Their next kiss is almost harsh with the passion they're both throwing into it. They both need this, Rodney realizes - not just someone to love, but someone to whom they can express their love. Rodney feels it between them, like a tangible thing. It's more than lust and heat and companionship: it's a bond he's never felt before and washes over him so powerfully that he whimpers.

"I am so fucking wet for you, you have no idea," John pants, rolling the condom on a little awkwardly.

The second it's on, Rodney can't hold back. He surges forward with a strength he didn't know he possessed, plastering John back onto the foot of the bed and settling between his legs. John looks surprised and possibly a little fearful for just one second before the tension melts from his body and he laughs, "I wasn't expecting _that_ from you."

Then John has his legs wrapped around Rodney's hips, his hard cock rubbing the full length of Rodney's and Rodney just can't take the teasing anymore. He presses John down into the bed and enters him with one smooth stroke.

John is indeed incredibly slick and needy, but tight too. He makes soft little moans, rocking his hips just slightly with each panted inhale. "So good, Rodney. So good," he chants. "It's been so long. I forgot it could be so good."

If Rodney weren't buried deep in John's perfect channel, being teased by those small movements of John's hips, he might have stopped to wonder how someone like John could go long enough without this to forget it could be amazing.

Rodney kisses John deeply one last time before he can't hold off any longer and just goes wild. He's never felt like this before, like some barrier in his psyche has broken, letting out all the primal, wild nature he kept locked up inside. This is how it's supposed to be. This is love, and lust, and connection.

John is grunting and moaning now, giving these sharp cries that seemed to rise to a fever pitch. He comes, clenching tight and gasping, all the tension releasing from his body at once.

Rodney could come in this moment too, but some strange strength possesses him and he holds on, pounding John hard through the aftershocks.

"Jesus Christ," John whimpers, still half-hard with Rodney's continued thrusts. He looks utterly debauched and content, with a lazy smirk and hooded, dazed eyes. Rodney feels surrounded by him in more ways than one - his scent, a rich, spicy musk, his gaze, his tight heat, his aura, even if Rodney claimed not to believe in that.

Still taken by this strange fever and need for John, to just take him and mark him and bite him until he collapsed from it, Rodney pulls out, flipping John onto his stomach and entering him once again, really getting the leverage he needs this time.

John is an incoherent mess, grasping at the bedsheets, and shouting Rodney's name, pushing back into Rodney so hard that each thrust made him see stars.

The moans settle into a harmony as Rodney's hips worked faster and faster. Just when Rodney feels trapped in a haze of red pleasure, unable to stop, unable to come, unable to escape, but not wanting to, John comes again with a strangled cry, clenching down on Rodney so tight that before he knows it, he's finally coming. If not for the condom he imagines he's streaming come across the room, it's that spectacular. His vision whites out and he collapses against John, pulling his lover tight to him in a possessive, tired grasp.

Rodney can barely think to form the words, but they tumble out anyway. "I love you," he repeats.

John nods, just lying there with Rodney collapsed on top of him and shrinking within him. They're too pleasure-sated and spent to remember to get up to dump the condom and fall asleep like that.

***

John, predictably, is a fan of golf. The other sports, Rodney can deal with. He's even beginning to enjoy the football games John has been taking him to. He and John can sit on the nice pads John bought for them, cuddled under a blanket while they cheer right along with Will for his school's team. But he isn't expected to _play_.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" Rodney asks. "100 SPF. I made it myself. Patent pending."

John sneezes in response. "No thank you. I don't think I can handle anymore of that - is that cocoa butter?"

"It soothes the skin."

John rolls his eyes, swinging his golf bag over his shoulder and walking off.

"Hey, wait. Don't we get one of those little car things?"

"Nah. Golf carts are for plebs. Our ancestors never played with them and we shouldn't either. Besides, the exercise will do us good." By which Rodney is sure John means that it will do Rodney good. John isn't a health nut per se, he just naturally seems to like healthy foods in small portions, which makes it even more annoying when he insists that Rodney take better care of himself.

"All right, all right, message received. I'll use that ridiculous home gym of yours if you just get us the golf cart and let me sit out of the sun. I'm sweaty and wearing khaki pants and a pink polo shirt! Can't you just get it over with and shoot me."

Instead of looking contrite (or merciful) John just smiles, turning back to walk up to Rodney and give him a soft, lingering kiss. "Don't worry; I find you attractive just the way you are. I just want you to be healthy. Stick around a while, you know?"

Rodney is inexplicably touched by that, though it does mean an afternoon wandering around in the hot sun following stupid white little balls.

"Now," John says, bending down to place his ball in a way that Rodney is sure is meant to deliberately stretch his pants against his tight ass in an enticing way, "golf is all about physics and geometry. What angle to hit the ball, taking into account spin, wind conditions, terrain, and obstacles."

"Easier said than done. I mean, all sports are math at their base. They're either about trajectory or they're about multiple conditional strategies. I can describe each and every one with mathematical precision, but that doesn't mean I can execute the moves. That's physical skill."

John laughs. "Golf requires less of that than most. Here, let me show you."

With that, John is putting a club in Rodney's hands and molding his body to Rodney's back. Rodney has no idea how he's supposed to concentrate on his swing with John doing that.

"Here, feel the subtle change in the angle," John instructs, mock-swinging with Rodney twice. "That's the difference between a clean drive and about twenty feet into those trees over there.

"I really don't think precision sports are for me."

John laughs. "Just take it easy. Don't worry about power and go for accuracy. If Will can be a junior golf champion, you can at least make an effort."

"Will plays golf?" Rodney asks, relaxing back into John, who has released the club but is still resting against Rodney's back.

"All my children do. Hell, Antony plays and swings one-handed. Dave and I always took our kids out on the Club's family days until mine outgrew it. Antony and I still go."

"Oh, so it must be really important to you, then." Rodney envisions hours on this hellscape in the future.

John's grip tightens, this time embracing Rodney, the club forgotten. "Not really. It's just something I do to relax. And a good networking tool. I think, um, well, if we get really serious, you'll probably be asked to attend at least the charity events."

Rodney is torn between hatred of the possibility of more golf and elated that John's already thinking about when they get "really serious" whatever that's supposed to mean.

Rodney turns to kiss John, mumbling into his mouth. "Fine, I'll give it a try, but you're responsible for all lost balls and if I even sense a single mosquito, I'm out."

John chuckles, delivering a few more playful pecks on Rodney's lips.

It's about to become more heated when Rodney hears the anorexic honk of a golf cart and pulls back to see three golf carts and five men in horrifically styled golfing outfits waving to John.

"Mr. Sheppard!" one exclaims. "So nice to see you out here."

"Robinson," John nods to him. "And who have you brought with you?"

"You know Graham from Legal, Andrews from HR, and Smith from Accounting. And this is my husband, Chris," Robinson gestures to the clearly gestating man sitting beside him. "He's mostly here for moral support."

"Nice to meet you," John walks over and shakes the man's hand. "This is my boyfriend, Rodney."

Rodney shakes everyone's hand. They all have the exact same strong handshake, as though they all went to the same school of handshaking.

"We're just here for the weekly game. Too bad your brother is once again _enceinte_ and unable to join us. He always makes it interesting."

John laughs, informing Rodney that his brother, Dave, likes to make bets on various random aspects of the game, like who will get the first cell phone call interrupting them or that he can land a ball on the island the middle of a water obstacle.

"Yeah, it frustrates Dave so much that he won't even come out here when he's too far along to play," John admits.

"The two of you could join us," Robinson offers, but John is quick to decline, citing Rodney's inexperience, but promising they'll all play some day.

After the cart is finally out of sight, John sags. "Well, that's going to get back to my brother right away. And I'm going to get an interrogation."

"What do you mean?" Rodney asks.

"That was the VP of Marketing and the heads of Legal, Accounting, and HR - the departments that my brother administers. There's no way they won't tell him that they caught me kissing someone."

"So what?" Rodney blurts out. All the people at the children's school already know. He didn't think he and John were particularly in the closet. Plus, they're employees, John could easily direct them not to tell the society rags if he doesn't want the relationship to be publicized. "Are you ashamed of me. I mean, I am an unregistered carrier. I guess you wouldn't want that to come out. But we're dating. It's not the end of the world."

John's harsh expression softens and he leans over to kiss Rodney. "Of course I'm not ashamed of you, Rodney. I could care less that you're unregistered. I wouldn't even mind if you were a pleb. My brother is just a little over-protective, that's all. I was waiting for the right moment to tell him."

"Isn't Dave your younger brother?" Rodney asks, wondering if it's traditional for younger siblings to be the protective ones.

"By only a few months. And I guess he has reason to be. There was a point in my life when I needed protecting."

In typical John fashion, John refuses to elaborate, taking a swing at the ball he placed almost twenty minutes ago and hitting it onto the green on the first stroke.

"I hate you," Rodney grumbles, feeling his palms beginning to sweat as he takes his first swing. It goes straight for the trees as expected.

John laughs, but it's not mean spirited. The kiss that follows is even less so.

They finally walk off in the direction of Rodney's ball. Rodney wants to just abandon it to the forest, but John insists on collecting it themselves as deterrent for further bad shots, because that's how his father taught him.

Rodney finally spots at least _a_ ball, no guarantee that it's his. He's determined to install a simple tracker on all future balls. He crows in triumph, spotting John leaning against a tree and smirking.

Rodney is always amazed by John's lanky slouch and the way he can just twitch the muscles of his face from a dorky expression to smoldering. Rodney pounces on him, pressing him back against the rough bark of the tree, already fumbling with John's fly to draw him out, he's so needy with it.

But instead of a hard length and desperate gasps to match his own, Rodney is met with softness and a glazed expression in John's eyes. He's a thousand miles away and Rodney may as well not be there.

"John?" he asks, feeling terror creep up on him. He shakes John's shoulder but there's no response. "Oh god, oh god. John, what's wrong?"

John is completely unresponsive. Did he have a stroke? He's too young for that. Maybe he just didn't like what Rodney's doing and is messing with him. "John, this isn't funny."

But John still hasn't moved, he's just staring into the distance. Rodney wants to run back to the fairway and call for help but he can't leave John here. He has his cellphone. He fumbles for it.

"John!" he shouts, one last time and finally, _finally_ , John blinks.

"Rodney?" he's still dazed and confused.

"Oh thank god," Rodney replies, leaning forward to kiss John's cheek, his neck, anywhere he can get to. "What the hell was that? You scared me!"

John waves him off. "I'm sorry, Rodney. Just lost myself for a second."

"Lost yourself? John, that was more like a coma. You didn't even respond to me. Come on, I'll flag your buddies down and they can take us back to go find a doctor."

"No," John snaps.

"Fine, I can understand that you don't want to look weak in front of your employees. We'll walk back and then get you to a doctor."

"I'm fine, Rodney. Just forget it. We can keep playing."

"You're not fine, John. That was really scary."

"I know, buddy, but I swear there's nothing more my doctor can do."

"Is it chronic? Are you dying?"

"No. I'm not dying. It just happens every now and then. I'm sorry for worrying you, but I really am fine and would like to get back to our game."

Rodney wants to protest but he can feel John's gentle reassurances grow barbs. He doesn't want John to be angry at him. He certainly doesn't want to push John hard enough to drive him away.

"Okay. But you swear there's no problem."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," John replies, guiding Rodney out of the trees with a hand on the small of his back.

Somehow, Rodney is less than reassured.

He's even less reassured when later that afternoon he gets a call from Dave Townsend inviting him to meet up at the Guild Club in town for a chat.

***

The Club of the Potentia Guild is pretty much as Rodney expected, like in the movies - all old wood paneling, cigar smoke, brass, marble. He's only been to one Guild Club before, out in California. Elizabeth normally does all the schmoozing, but some of the guys at JPL had wanted to meet with him personally. It had been a modern monstrosity with glass and steel, monochrome with only a few flowers on the carefully trimmed grass tabletops to serve as accents. Rodney might expect something in the same expensively modern vein, but this is New England, and the Potentia Guild dates back to the time of the Revolution. The floor is patterned in mosaic pavement, and Rodney notes several other Masonic symbols in either stone or brass on the walls - the square and the compass, the eye, and a tapestry of a trestle board.

One whole wall of the foyer is a mural depicting the signing of the Declaration of Independence, with all the prominent American Guilds uniting in their decision to cut ties with their English pedigree and with the King. Rodney almost laughs at the irony of wanting to trade the tyranny of a single ruler for the many smaller tyrannies of the Guilds themselves, but over time he admits that the American Guilds have been more progressive for their split with England - the first to allow plebeians to attend Guild schools, the first to abolish the dowry requirement for pre-conception marriages, but also the first to embrace genetic testing.

"Excuse me, sir," a young man wearing a black suit interrupts Rodney's thoughts. "Can I help you?" Rodney realizes that even though plebs and noblemen don't look different at first glance, the staff must be familiar with the majority of the Club's patrons and know Rodney isn't one of them.

"I'm here to meet someone. His name is Dave Townsend, of the Sheppard lineage."

The host smiles. He's very pretty, with sparkling blue eyes and blond hair that falls casually across his forehead. Rodney wonders briefly if he's the son of a nobleman, doing this as a shit high school job or if he's a pleb working here in hopes of marrying up. "Mr. Townsend is in the Celestial Lounge. It's smoke free, if you don't mind."

"I don't smoke," Rodney replies. "I had terrible childhood asthma. It's resolved now, but I still prefer to be cautious."

The host's look is perfectly, pleasantly bland. He nods. "If you would follow me, sir."

They make their way down a raised path along the side of a large room with high vaulted ceilings. The room is in the layout of a pentagram, with a stage at its center and sunken seating areas in each arm of the star. The seating areas were mostly filled with older men smoking, drinking and talking. Rodney's feet drag on the thick red carpeting and he looks suspiciously at the oil lamps hanging from the stone walls, completely unnecessary with the light of an elaborate brass chandelier in the center.

The host mistakes Rodney's apprehension at a clear fire hazard for interest and tells him, "This room was originally used by the Lodge, but after the movement to unmask some of the less advanced rituals to the general membership, it was converted into a Club. We've tried to maintain the historic character of the building as much as possible, but when you came in you probably saw the cell phone amplifier we had to install on top just to get reception through these walls."

Rodney nods, following the host through an elaborate set of carved mahogany doors at the point of the star. The Celestial Lounge is even more decadent than the previous room. The walls are accented by marble columns with stone angels perched on top and the ceiling is a high dome with baroque golden designs surrounding a midnight blue background with specks of light shining through it to mimic the night sky.

The host leads Rodney back to a corner alcove, set between two columns, and roped off with a velvet chain. A man is already lounging there on a comfortable-looking settee. "Mr. Townsend," the host says with a smile. "Your companion, Dr. McKay, has arrived."

Rodney is surprised that the host knows his name, but John's brother must have informed the club in advance.

"Is there anything I can get you before I go?"

"An ice tea," John's brother grumbles, patting his obviously-carrying belly. "Have you already eaten, Dr. McKay?"

Rodney nods.

"Something to drink?"

"Ice tea," Rodney fumbles. He could probably use a stiff drink, but he doesn't want to make a bad impression.

The host nods and walks off. A server appears with another glass and a pitcher not long after.

Rodney is seriously wowed by the ridiculous pedigree that blesses the Sheppard family. Dave Townsend shares his brother's intense green eyes and dark hair, but his features are more chiseled and regal while John's are pretty and seductive. Rodney prefers John, but Dave is a close second - well dressed in an Armani paternity suit, with one hand casually cradling his huge belly and the other reaching easily over to shake Rodney's.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. McKay," Dave seems perfectly at home at the Guild Club, ushering Rodney over to one of the large sound-proof booths at the back of the hall. "I must apologize if you had hoped to smoke. I really miss a good cigar and a strong whiskey, but you give up things for children."

Rodney can't help but stare at the giant bulge in Dave's stomach. He'd be surprised if the child hadn't already made it's first emergence from the pouch yet. Rodney just hopes that it's sleeping. He still finds children poking their heads out more than a little disturbing, even though there are a fair number of noblemen in Rodney's line of work.

"Um, yes, for the children." For lack of anything better to say, Rodney fumbles, "So, you're John's brother?"

"Actually, we're _fratres animorum_. Our father carried John at the same time our mother was pregnant with me."

"Just by looking I would've thought you were pouchmates." John and his brother look similar enough that they could be.

"We get that a lot. Dad wanted a child to carry on the family name as a priority, so he found a donor willing to make an open donation. John knows his identity, I'm sure, but so far as I know, he hasn't contacted him. But about you, Doctor, how did you and John meet?"

"You should ask your brother." And not go behind his back. "Why did you want me to come here?" he demands, knowing that it's not subtle, but things aren't going to get any less awkward until he knows why John's brother would demand a secret meeting like this.

"John did say you were direct," Dave answers with a chuckle. "I asked you here to tell you about John. There are some things that he should tell you himself, but he won't. My conscience insists that it's more important that you know than I give him the time to tell you."

"What do you mean?" Rodney likes to think that John would know him well enough to know that he should be honest.

"John's had a tough time. He's made the best of it and he's strong - one of the strongest men I know. But it still affects him even though he likes to pretend it doesn't. The fact that you're the first person that he's even dated since his ex-husband is evidence enough."

Rodney can't believe it. "I'm the first person he dated?"

"Yes, for fifteen years."

That's a really long time. Rodney is beginning to get a little frightened. John had alluded to the fact that he hadn't seen anyone recently, as had the society pages, though Rodney couldn't trust the society pages when John had every reason to keep a low profile for the sake of his classified work. Rodney had attributed John's unhurried approach to dating to the same workaholic syndrome that had kept Rodney out of the dating pool the past few years, but fifteen years....

"That's about Antony's age."

Dave nods. He looks pained, Rodney realizes, like it's difficult for him to even talk about this. "Rodney, John's ex-husband was both emotionally and physically abusive."

Even though in retrospect, Rodney may have seen the signs - their relatively slow sexual courtship, the strange episode on the golf course - Rodney is still shocked by the revelation. "He doesn't act that abused."

"It has been fifteen years. That's a long time and my brother has learned to cope. John was seeing a psychologist twice a week until about a year ago. He still sees her every other week." Dave reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. "Take her number in case John has an extended panic attack. It's been years since it happened, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Rodney takes the card with shaking hands. He's shocked by Dave's revelation. John is a beautiful, amazing man, so self-possessed and in-control that he could command armies. This can't be true. But Rodney is also unsure of their relationship now more than ever. He doesn't know that he can handle being the stable, sane one in a relationship. He's not exactly know for his sanity. And John is in serious psychotherapy? Rodney has enough of his own baggage. Can he deal with John's too?

"Oh my god. I don't think I can-- what if he does have a panic attack? Could I cause one? We were on the golf course and he just blanked out for a second. Was that a panic attack? I should've taken him to a doctor. I should've--"

"It was a fugue state." Dave interrupts the panicked babbling, scowling in a way that shows he has his own doubts about Rodney. Rodney thinks he's probably right. "It's nothing unexpected and there was nothing you could do. John will discuss it in his session today."

"Today?"

"I scheduled meeting you when I knew John would be busy. It's easier this way."

"But you don't feel guilty? You are going behind your own brother's back."

Dave gets serious then, his handsome features transforming into something tired, bitter, and resigned. "Do you think I like doing this? Do you think I wanted my brother to get married to a psychopath when he was barely seventeen and then spend the rest of my life looking after him? I love John with all my heart and I want him to be a fully-functioning normal adult who doesn't need me to go behind his back, but the truth of the matter is that he's not normal and probably never will be. That bastard robbed him of his full potential and even though he's so strong to be where he is now, John will always need someone to look after him. If not me, then you, and if not us, then it falls to his children and I don't ever want that to happen. So, yes, I feel guilty, but I'd feel even guiltier if I let you blindly stumble into doing serious psychological damage to him."

"I love John. I haven't done any damage to him!" Rodney protests. Though a part of him is replaying all his interactions with John in his head, wondering if he ever pushed too hard or inadvertently brought something up that could really hurt the man he loves.

"That remains to be seen," Dave remarks dryly. Dave is like John conducting business - blunt and ruthless so long as it gets the job done. "But you're here now and you're already deep enough in it that whether you decide to stay or go, you would risk doing John damage. So we just have to deal with you." He doesn't seem too enthusiastic about the prospect.

Rodney would like not to care what this guy in his fancy paternity suit in this ridiculous restaurant thinks about him. He's never really cared about any of this bullshit, from his time at the Scientia Academy onwards. But he loves John and he has to admit that whether he likes it or not, Dave Townsend knows what John needs more than probably anyone.

"Now, I'm going to tell you the full extent of what we're dealing with," Dave commands. This is not up for discussion. "You're going to listen and then you're going to tell me if this is something you're prepared to handle. If not, we're going to find a way for you to extract yourself from the situation with as little trouble for my brother as possible. Do you understand?"

Rodney nods.

"Good. Now, there are some things that you need to hear from John and not me and I don't want to take that away from him. I'm just going to tell you the parts that you absolutely need to know. Michael Parker was a business partner of our father's, from a Texas oil family that our power division bought fuel from. He was almost as old as our father, but still unmarried, which might have been warning signs enough, if Father had taken a second to think about it. For reasons I don't feel I have the right to go into, it was time for John to marry and Father made a good business decision. The Feds had just finished breaking up the Bell telephone monopoly and everyone thought utilities were next. But the savings provisions in the Sherman Act specified that certain mergers could escape anti-trust claims if they occurred through a marriage and the newly formed company was passed down to a legitimate biological heir."

"So your father sold his son into an abusive relationship for a government loophole?" John has barely mentioned his father, other than to explain some of the quotes and photos displayed on the walls at Sheppard Industries Headquarters. John hasn't given too much indication of how he feels about his father, but Rodney finds he hates Patrick Sheppard.

"Our father made a smart business decision - one that John brought down on himself, again for reasons I won't go into. Father didn't know Michael would abuse John. Once we found out, he hired the best lawyers to put Michael in prison, bankrupted Michael's company, and jettisoned the whole petroleum division, which is why Sheppard Industries in the leading provider of alternative energies today. Plus, he hired the best doctors to get John rehabilitated. I honestly don't think he's ever forgiven himself for what happened."

Rodney still can't wrap his head around the concept of arranged marriage, even though he knows its alive and well, despite all the romantic modern fairy tales that protest it. But John is from a different life and Rodney probably shouldn't judge. He finds himself doing so anyway. "But he should've noticed something."

Dave sighs. "Maybe. If you think John is bad, our father was even more buried in his work. Both John and I take special care to make time for our families because our father wasn't exactly present in our lives. After John was married and out of the house with a husband to take care of him, he dropped even further off Father's radar. I should've noticed, too. But John was in Texas and I was in Boston studying my ass off at Harvard and I had met my future husband, Darren, at the first Potentia Guild mixer and was so in love and determined to get married."

Dave sighs, looking regretful. "I'll admit, I was a little jealous of John, who was passing on the family name and giving our father a merger he really wanted. Not to mention that he's an Imperial, so of course he was just pushing them out like crazy. Darren and I are both Royal carriers and I was having trouble incubating and I remember thinking, 'why is John so lucky? He fucks up and then ends up with everything and I have to go to school and do ROTC and try to get married and carrying before I'm called into military service.' I actually decided not to visit him when he begged me to attend Will's transfer because I couldn't face him when I was having my own fertility problems." Dave's eyes are glassy and he is focusing on the elegant tapestry behind Rodney's head rather than look him in the eye. "It was a goddamned cry for help and I ignored it."

Rodney reaches across the table to pat Dave on the arm. He's really bad at comforting people, because all he earns for his troubles is John's brother staring at him, puzzled at why Rodney would even try to touch him.

"But the past is the past," Dave forges on. "And I was young and so stupid. While I was awed by John's fertility, it was because he was locked in a wing of the house, there for nothing other than to be Michael's fucktoy and to carry his children. With nobody but a female servant who wasn't allowed to talk to him and doing written correspondence courses instead of the private tutors Michael was supposedly hiring for him to get his degree, John developed a kind of Stockholm Syndrome. And if he did want to get a message out, he couldn't. The only time we saw him was when Dad went to the transfer ceremonies, but John always got labor sickness and actually _wanted_ Michael then. And there was the matter of not disappointing our father. He and John always butted heads, but John still really looked up to him at that point."

"John doesn't mention him much."

Dave sighs. "Honestly, John has forgiven him, but he can't seem to forget. They used to see each other at work, but now that Father retired, only Christmas, Thanksgiving, and the Fourth of July."

"What about you?" Rodney is curious. Dave is conumdrun. On one hand, he is much deeper into tradition and the frivolous affect of the rich and guilded than John and sees reason in his father's clearly unreasonable actions. On the other hand, he clearly loves John very much, enough to do anything for him.

Dave consideres the question with a calm restraint that Rodney hasn't seen in John, who is quick to respond, and probably a little more quick witted, too. "We've had our own struggles. Father didn't approve of my 'rushing' things with Darren. He thought I was just trying to avoid my military service, but I've always suspected there was some racism involved. And it deeply hurt Dad that after we got John back, John would only let me comfort him. I love my father, but I don't think he gets it. John stayed in an abusive relationship far beyond the point of reason in part because Father made it about sacrificing for the family. Father and I both know that he never would have wanted John to stay after the first time Michael hit him, that John's safety always came first, but John _still_ doesn't understand that deep down and I think he may even resent the idea that he could've left much earlier and nobody would have been disappointed."

"What made him finally leave?" Rodney asks, not sure if he even wants to know. But he _needs_ to know, so he waits for the answer with a grimace.

"He didn't have a choice. From what I've been able to piece together over the years, Michael started slowly - just hitting John's arms and legs, tying him up, or biting him. He introduced it as a kinky kind of sex. John wasn't very experienced and certainly not with those things, so he naively accepted it. Then it would happen when Michael drank or when he came home enraged from a bad day at work. Then it was jealousy. By the time John transferred Will, Michael had forbidden him to leave the house except for doctor's visits. Then John lost a neonate and Michael blamed it on a delusion that John had been sleeping with his doctor, whom he sued for malpractice. He pulled the rig doctor from one of his drilling projects to do all the tests, even though he obviously didn't specialize in OBGYNCLO. Only after Michael became convinced that Antony was not his, despite the fact that John hadn't left the house in a year, did John finally try to sneak out."

Dave looks so angry that Rodney knows he won't like the next part of the story. "He got caught."

"Michael flew into a rage. He beat John so badly that he had a Pasteur rupture with the neonate he'd been carrying and, well, you've met Antony. He was deprived of oxygen when John started bleeding into the pouch and we think the arm is because Michael threw John down on his stomach."

Rodney had wondered if Antony's condition was genetic. At first he'd thought maybe Antony was autistic, because while investigating propagating his own genes, he'd found out that it's statistically more likely to occur with high paternal IQ and John is _at least_ MENSA material. But Antony never showed any signs he might be a savant, though Rodney has been keeping an eye out for them. On one hand, Rodney is glad it isn't genetic, which would probably make John question having more children. But oxygen deprivation in a developing brain means that there's little chance of improvement for Antony and even though Rodney loves him as he is, he can't stop thinking about that life Antony might've had, if John's insane ex-husband had given him the chance. "I'm impressed that Antony survived," Rodney replies. If John was seriously beaten while carrying, it's a miracle that Antony is with them at all.

Dave gives a little half smile. "Antony was saved by an emergency transfer. I carried him the last few months along with my first." That at least explains why Antony spends so much time staying with his Uncle, Rodney reasons. "He and Malik are pouchmates. They were inseparable when they were young."

"And now?" Rodney thinks it must be hard. When they were kids, the difference in intelligence probably wasn't too noticeable. But now? Children can be cruel.

Dave gives an exasperated smile. "Well, they still spend a lot of time together, but my son has discovered girls and boys, while Antony seems most interested in science these days. Your influence?"

Rodney nods. Rodney has been showing Antony how to grow crystals, use a microscope and build toys with electronics kits. They're even building a remote controlled car to give to John for Christmas.

"Well, at least you're a good influence on my nephew. He can't stop talking about you, but based on the quarterly research reviews, I thought you were just a colleague of John's, maybe a friend, but not his boyfriend. The kids must have been in on it. Will and Luke can be had for a few hours in the Corvette, but that sneaky son-of-a-bastard must have promised Bryn something _huge_ in order to get her not to tell me. Then again, the signs were all there; I just wasn't expecting John to find anybody."

"He's really that bad?" Rodney never would have known any of this if Dave hadn't told him.

Dave rubs his belly agitatedly. "I don't know. I do my best not to treat John with kid gloves. I certainly know better than to mess with our quarterly profits by interfering with his work, but I've seen him at rock bottom - not eating, barely sleeping, not able to even interact with his own kids. I've been taking care of him for years. I have no idea if I'm even objective anymore. Maybe he is healed, normal, completely with it and I'm an idiot for meddling in his life. Or maybe he's not and I'm going to have to be prepared for when it all falls apart again."

"But he's improved?" Rodney wants to believe that John's fine and healed and none of this stuff will ever be relevant, but he knows better. The universe just isn't that nice, especially not to Rodney McKay.

"He was in a coma until after Antony emerged, so he's obviously made improvements from that. I was planning to carry my junior year so Darren and I could get married (our guild requires one of the partners to be carrying before you can add a spouse to the register) and I wouldn't have to perform my military service. Then we were going to wait until graduation, when I'd work and let Darren take a year off to carry our next child after that. Even after what happened to John, I thought that we'd stay on track and that once Antony emerged, I'd just hand him over to the excellent staff of nannies dad hired to watch the other kids. But then John woke up and he only wanted me. He wouldn't speak to Father and he begged me not to let the kids be raised by strangers. He also knew enough to know that he couldn't take care of them himself and we were fighting a custody battle with Michael's brothers. Father didn't exactly smooth that one over when he put Michael behind bars and sold all our stock in his company to a friend of his for one dollar a share. So Darren and I took a year off to raise all the kids together." Dave smiles. "I still can't believe he did that for me. He didn't even ask me to consider another option. He just said that if I needed to take time off to take care of my brother, he'd be right there with me."

Rodney can't help but smile a little too. For all of his apparent superficiality, it's clear that Dave Townsend loves both his brother and his husband very much. And he obviously did a fine job with Bryn, Will, Luke, and Antony, something for which Rodney can't thank him enough. "How long did they live with you?"

"John was able to participate in parental duties after a year, so Darren went back to school. John and I never really _needed_ to work, so we stayed at home with the kids, but we were at each other's throats. The more John recovered, the more he wanted to be a parent. But I'd been raising the kids for more than a year and they were used to John being an inconsistent presence in their lives. It was hard for him to see them turn to me when we disagreed, and we disagreed on a lot of things. And it was equally hard for me to let go of children who I'd grown to see as my own and I admit, I didn't fully trust John to take care of them."

"What changed?"

"After graduation, Darren got his big break as a musician. I never questioned that would happen. When I first heard 'A Child's Heart,' which Darren wrote for me when we found out that I was gestating Malik, I knew nobody could ignore his talent."

"Wait, your husband is Darren Berry? The jazz musician? The one who never gives any interviews?" Rodney had almost all his CDs.

"That's him," Dave shrugs. "We try to keep out of the society rags for John's sake. It'd destroy him if the public found out about what he went through and his story is so much of our story that Darren just lets the music speak for itself and skips all the star business."

Rodney knows Dave has no reason to lie to him, but he admits he can be a little obsessive compulsive sometimes, especially when he's pulling out his phone and scanning Darren Berry's wikipedia page, which confirms 'Darren Berry and his husband Dave Townsend [no hyperlink] have three children together and are expecting a fourth.' "Still expecting?"

Dave shrugs. "Any day now. The suspense is killing me. Darren says I always get a little squirrely when the time comes. Impatience, I assume. That's what was killing John and I when we were stuck at home - we were just waiting for some change to come without knowing how to make it happen. Then one day Father came to visit and saw how frazzled we both were and decided we'd each come to work with him a few days out of the week. John fell in love with R&D and went back to school part time in Engineering and I mostly hung around the marketing department, casually finished my economics degree and completed an MBA. When Antony was six, John went back to work full-time and Darren and I both carried at the same time. I only went back to work full time about five years ago, when my family and I moved out."

"You still see them a lot, though." Rodney remembers how suspicious it had been - all the family dinners that Rodney was not invited to because it wasn't 'the right time' to meet John's brother.

"At least twice a week. Leaving the children nearly broke my heart, but it was the right decision for John. He finally has his work life and his family life in order. I thought it was enough for him," Dave says sadly, looking at Rodney, mostly with sympathy, but with a small amount of disdain.

"Hey, John _deserves_ a romantic life too. He deserves to have someone to show him how good it can be."

"And you're that person?" Dave raises an eyebrow.

Rodney isn't sure he's the right person to finally heal John and exorcise all his demons. But he does know one thing: "I'm the one he chose."

Dave sighs. "That you are. Just keep in mind that John's already fulfilled his obligation to pass on the family genes. Michael was expelled from the Guild and put into prison, so John doesn't have any divorce penalties. And the trial judge sealed the records, which we'd like to keep that way. He's a completely free man from a pedigree point of view and his kids are almost all grown up. He doesn't need another relationship or another family. You, on the other hand, are an unregistered carrier who does a lot of work with noblemen and might be able to use the PR from a high profile marriage. You are forty years old and haven't married, which means your biological clock must be ticking. So, the question is: what do you want from my brother? Because if you're just looking to marry up, you picked the wrong man."

Rodney takes a moment to think about that. If he's honest with himself, he wants it all: he wants to marry John, have children together, the house and the white picket fence and the fairy tale ending, but he's not about to tell Dave that. The man is suspicious enough as it is. "I want to give him everything he needs," he says instead. "What does he need?"

Dave looks surprised by Rodney's answer, but doesn't comment. "Just be careful with him. Don't push him about sex. Be kind to his children. Love him the way he deserves."

That, at least, Rodney can do.

***

Loving John the way he deserves turns out to be frequently - in John's big bed after a family dinner, in Rodney's office when John comes to visit him during lunch, once out in the stable, before Rodney discovered that a hay rash on his ass was not a pleasant thing. After that one night, it's as though a dam has broken and John is insatiable, so hungry for it that Rodney is desperately glad that he can come like a noble, otherwise his dick might be rubbed raw.

John has always been a sensual lover, but it seems that his sensitivity has ramped up recently along with his libido. Just one small touch will have him shivering and shaking with need. Afterwards they'll lie together, cuddling and stroking each other. This has to be more than just passionate lovemaking. It already feels like a commitment. The words are on the tip of John's tongue, waiting to break free. Rodney holds back too, trying to describe everything he feels with his hands and his lips and his eyes. They're in love and in limbo and Rodney still lets insecurity wash over him in waves.

And life goes on. It transforms. Rodney goes a week without spending more time at his own place than to pick up clothes and feed the cat. His chest puffs up with pride when Luke wins a judo tournament, or when Bryn gets a A on her chemistry test and when Antony looks at him with fascinated eyes, sitting sprawled against Rodney's side as they read 'Ben and Me' together one night when John can't make it home in time to tuck Antony in himself. Rodney thinks he could do this for the rest of his life and is surprised that the thought of it doesn't scare him.

"Hey, watcha smiling about?" John asks. He's fresh out of the pool. Rodney is content to simply sit in a lounge chair by the side of the solarium pool in the Sheppard mansion. One wall is cedar wood, hung with pictures of John and Dave as children riding and fencing and playing football and the other is a slanted pyramid of paneled glass. Rodney can stare at the quaint English-style gardens outside, feel the warm steam from the heated pool and Jacuzzis, and work on his laptop. He's in paradise.

"Just checking how _my_ company is doing. The minions seem relatively happy in my absence. As idiotic as always, but I'll head in to the office tomorrow to straighten them out. Speaking of which, is there any way you could loan me the Czech guy for a week or two? I have a project he would be perfect for, and I'm willing to cover his duties at Sheppard Industries."

John sighs. "Well, I know I had to get you into our labs at some point." Thus far, Rodney has only been meeting with John and the Czech guy, mostly going over the manufacturing limitations Rodney will have to work with once the building phase commences.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

"It's not that I don't value you expertise, Rodney. It's just that you're an outside consultant, not a manager and I think your particular management style will be a shock to my employees."

"I know. Zelonka told me about your pinko leadership retreats and employee services."

"Sometimes it's better to be loved than feared," John responds, deliberately shaking himself off like a dog and splashing a little on Rodney's laptop. Luckily it's one of those military-grade indestructible ones.

"So Elizabeth keeps telling me," Rodney harrumphs, but sets his laptop aside, making room for a wet and horny John Sheppard to straddle him.

John's skin is warm from the heated water and though he's deliberately making Rodney as wet as possible, Rodney could really care less, yanking him closer for a bruising kiss and cupping that tight ass that John has been teasing him with in a speedo.

"Next week we have a training session for new employees. It'll include my whole new medical auditing division. You can bond with the head doctor over her hatred of the military industrial complex, in spite of the fact that you're both working for me."

Rodney pinches one of John's nipples viciously, making him jackknife up and groan, collapsing with his face buried in Rodney's neck after he's released. "Is this really the time to talk about business?"

"Sorry. Sometimes I just can't turn myself off." Rodney knows the feeling, but he's not about to admit that sometimes he waits until John is passed out from an intense lovemaking session to sneak off and work on an idea that came to him in a flash just before orgasm.

"Well, stop it," he orders, yanking John's hair and bucking up into him to rub their hips together. It's not particularly comfortable, with chafing and all, but it's worth it to hear John's whimper as they brush up against each other, pressed together from head to toe.

"Fuck, Rodney," John grates out. "I haven't been this turned on since--" he doesn't finish the sentence, instead ending with a gasp from where Rodney has pushed aside his speedo and is fingering the sensitive entrance to his cloaca.

"Damnit," John swears, biting down on Rodney's neck hard enough to bruise, his hips stuttering down against Rodney's.

Uncomfortable is not what Rodney wants at the moment, so his pushes John off, standing to yank off his now-damp clothes. John's eyes are glazed when he stares and him, looking young and lost and crazy with lust.

Before Rodney knows it, he's being manhandled towards the jacuzzi tub.

"John? What the hell?!"

"Trust me. You'll like this."

Rodney wants to protest that chlorine is not good for his sensitive skin and that he doesn't want to have to shower afterwards and that they could do it in comfort on a pool lounge, but John is determined and really who is Rodney to object to sex with this gorgeous man in a hot tub?

John splashes into the pool, waiting patiently for Rodney to inch his way in. He softens a little as he relaxes down against one of the jets, but John doesn't wait long before pouncing again, spinning Rodney around and entering him with one solid stroke. Rodney hadn't realized how wet he was getting in anticipation of John or how his body even knows that John is in the mood to do the fucking, not be fucked, but he can't do much more than cry out as John sets a maddening pace, thrusting in so deep that Rodney didn't even know it was possible.

They lace their hands together and John presses every inch of his body against Rodney's back, grunting as he yanks at Rodney's hips and biting down hard on the nape of Rodney's neck to hold off from coming.

Rodney feels the pleasure build - the warmth of the tub and the cold of the air where they're out of the water, John's insane rhythm, the sounds of water lapping, the sound of their skin sliding together in perfect harmony, the small gasps and pleas John is making.

And then Rodney is clenching, coming like a noble with his cock soft and his body accepting every drop of John's seed. For a second he wishes this meant something more than sexy times in a hot tub - that he could actually end up with a child from this. But John is an imperial and Rodney will never carry his child.

Rodney sighs, collapsing down against the rough concrete lip of the jacuzzi, feeling John's weight heavy at his back. They stay like that, sated but somehow empty, the sounds of the water lapping against the side of the pool a strange echo in the glass structure that surrounds them.

***

"C'mon Rodney, it's _family day_!" Antony shouts, with jubilant reverence, bounding up the stairs and towards his bedroom with more energy that Rodney thinks he's ever seen in a child. "I'm gonna wear my Spiderman shorts."

"Family day?" Rodney turns to Bryn, who is already dressed in a short jean skirt that Rodney would scold her for if he were her parent and an oversized Patriots jersey with the straps of a yellow bikini peaking out at her collar bone.

"When Uncle Dave and his family moved out, he and dad and Dr. Kate decided that in order to soften the blow for Antony and for the rest of us, we'd have set days when we get together as a family. So the first and third Sundays of the month are family days. Sometimes we go on a hike or to an amusement park, but today's just a barbecue at Uncle Dave's house. Hope you brought your swimsuit."

Bryn doesn't seem all that enthusiastic, but she's also not doing the sulking thing that Rodney would expect from most teenagers facing the prospect of a whole weekend day with her family.

Rodney pokes his head into Antony's room. John once explained that while Antony is old enough and capable of performing all major tasks on his own, the whole family does their part in checking on him just to make sure he keeps out of trouble.

Antony is digging through a large bin of dirty clothes when Rodney walks in. "I can't find it," he pouts.

"That's okay," Rodney reassures, giving Antony a nervous pat on the head, hoping that this won't turn into a big thing. Antony has thrown just one tantrum in Rodney's presence - when Will messed up the Tivo trying to record Wild Things and Antony missed an episode of his favorite show (Monk, though Rodney can't fathom why he likes it). Rodney had expected John to just soothe Antony by pulling the show up on iTunes and being done with it, but instead, John ignored Antony's wildly flailing limbs, grabbed ahold of him and looked straight into his eyes, saying that his brother had made a mistake and apologized for it and that it's not good to blame or to be angry at others for accidents.

John had assured him that blow-ups like that happened very rarely and that he was doing his damnedest to teach Antony the best behavior he could. Rodney gained a whole other level of respect for John at that moment. He didn't think he could be so calm and forceful with Antony and through his own weakness, he'd probably end up rewarding bad behavior.

Antony doesn't seem in the mood for a tantrum now, thank god. Instead, he just collapses sullenly onto the bed.

"What other swim trunks do you have?" Rodney asks.

As it turns out, Antony has all the superheros, and Rodney is easily able to convince Antony that it's better to wear Batman anyhow, because it's Rodney's favorite.

"What about you?" Antony asks. "You need your swimsuit because Uncle Dave has the best pool. It has a water slide."

"Cool," Rodney says with a gulp, thinking about being forced down a water slide by a mob of children after what he's sure will be a giant barbecue. "But I didn't bring my swimsuit." Salvation.

"You can borrow one of mine," Antony offers.

"I'm a lot bigger than you."

"Okay, one of my dad's then."

"Please, your dad is a beanpole."

"A what?"

"A beanpole. It's when someone is really skinny."

"They're made of beans?"

"No, it's a pole to... nevermind. It's just what we say about people like you and your dad who happen to have these great genes where no matter what you eat or how many children you carry, you look like a stick."

Antony doesn't look so happy. "I look like a stick?"

Rodney rolls his eyes. "Trust me, if you grow up to look anything like your father, you'll have to beat the suitors away with a stick."

"Suitors?"

Realizing the questions aren't going to stop anytime soon, Rodney gives in. "It's a good thing. Your dad is very handsome and you probably will be too."

"Cool," Antony grins, before grabbing Rodney's hand and dragging him out of the room. "Come on, we'll find a pair of dad's swim shorts for you."

Rodney realizes that Antony had missed the whole point of the beanpole discussion, but he's already halfway down the hall to the master bedroom, so he might as well go along with it.

Antony throws the door to his dad's bedroom open, heading straight for the closet with Rodney in tow. They both stop in their tracks when they find John standing there, shirtless, staring at the mirror with a hand on his chest. John looks almost frightened for a second before his expression fades into the usual look of vague, inscrutable contentment.

Rodney releases Antony's hand and moves up behind John, covering John's hand with his own and kissing his cheek. "And they call _me_ narcissistic. We all know you're gorgeous. You really don't need to stare at yourself."

John is shaken out of his trance. He turns to Rodney with a blush and a smile, ignoring the whirlwind of Antony digging through one of John's drawers.

"Perfect!" Antony exclaims, producing the ugliest pair of yellow swim trunks that Rodney has ever seen and putting them in Rodney's hand. "Dad borrowed these from Uncle Darren before. They fell off in on the water slide and we all saw Dad's butt. They can fit you."

So maybe Antony did get the beanpole thing. Rodney raises an eyebrow at John. "Showed everyone your butt, huh?"

John rolls his eyes. "Kids, sometimes you just can't get them to keep their mouths shut." He gives a fake growl and chases after a giggling Antony.

"Dad, how come you're not going swimming?" Antony asks, after John has tickled him into submission. John is wearing a pair of jeans instead of a swimsuit.

"Rodney can swim with you," John offers, completely ignoring Rodney's warning glare. "I'm not feeling so good today, so I'm going to pass on the pool, buddy."

Antony looks disappointed but concerned. "You're sick?"

"I'm fine. Maybe just the beginning of a cold. If I get wet it might make it worse."

Antony nods. "Like that time when I had the sniffles and then we went on the field trip to the zoo and it rained and I had to go to the doctor to get antibiotics."

"Exactly like that. How about you go round up your siblings and hop in the car? Rodney and I will be down in a minute."

"Sorry to spring this on you at the last minute," John says, after Antony has taken off down the hall, hollering for his sister and brothers. "I thought if I told you that I planned to introduce you to my brother you might freak out and worry. Bad for the blood pressure." Rodney doubts that's John's real motive. It was more likely that he didn't intend to invite Rodney, but one of more of the children begged him into submission at the last minute.

"Should I be worried?" Rodney is worried about not letting on that he and Dave have already met. He's a terrible liar, but Dave seems like he might be sneaky enough for the both of them.

"Naw."

"Because you've been doing a pretty good job of keeping me away from him."

"It's just a little overwhelming. Dave is more traditional than I am."

"So he'll disapprove of me?" Rodney doesn't know why he's making this so difficult, except maybe that he _is_ a little upset that John hasn't introduced him.

"No. Considering how many Guild historical documents he owns and how much time he puts into Guild functions, my brother is remarkably lacking in prejudice against plebs. Even if you two don't get along, I promise he absolutely won't care that you're not registered. It's a fight my family has already been through and Dave learned his lesson."

Rodney files that information away for further inquiry. He knows that Dave's husband is a registered carrier from a prominent family, so he wonders what the big argument over registered status could have been about.

"So what's overwhelming?"

"Well, for starters, Dave's husband is Darren Berry."

"The musician?"

John nods. "It's funny. My brother likes to project this stiff, corporate image, even to me. And he _loves_ his meetings and banquet dinners - the more formal the better. But he's married to a jazz musician who's main motto is to just relax and just take life in. I sometimes wonder who Dave thinks he's fooling."

"Opposites attract," Rodney replies. He's aware that he should probably be googling Darren Berry, like he did at the Guild club, but John takes his lack of enthusiasm for Dave's husband at face value.

"You're not a fan?"

"Don't get me wrong, he's a brilliant musician. But is he going to win a nobel? Because if not, I'm not impressed."

John gives Rodney a playful peck on the lips. "A hard man to impress, huh? What did I do to deserve you attention?"

"I'm completely unimpressed by you," Rodney jokes. "But you have other redeeming qualities - you're hot, for one, and I like that thing you do with your hips."

John laughs, pulling Rodney up against him and undulating lewdly. "Like that?"

"Exactly like that." Rodney's eye roll is muted by the fact that he can't help but kiss John again. He loves John when he's like this - playful and cute.

After a quick groping session, broken up only by Bryn yelling, "Dad, are you guys having sex up there?" John grabs Rodney's hand and leads him downstairs, adding, "Oh yeah, did I mention that my brother has four boys? Malik is Antony's age and Cody and P.J. are eight. His youngest, Jerome, just emerged a few weeks ago, but he's demanding a lot of my brother's attention for a little guy. So that's eight kids total."

"I see what you mean by overwhelming," Rodney replies.

He's already pretty overwhelmed when they load into the car and Rodney is forced to divide his attention between Antony retelling everything that happened the past two days when he didn't see Rodney, Bryn demanding to know why she has to memorize the solubility rules, and Will, Luke, and John arguing loudly over who is the greatest quarterback of all time.

Dave's house is even more palatial than John's, but much newer looking. Rodney suspects that John inherited the family home and Dave either purchased or built his. It's a cape-style house, painted grey with a white awning covered in ivy trellises leading up to a solid oak door. Rather than enter through the front door, John just waves to the butler and opens an iron gate to lead the family through a thoroughly over-designed rose garden and back to an open lawn and a pool. Rodney notes the promised water slide dug into a granite hillside with a few strategically placed plants to give it a tropical feel.

"Uncle Dave!" Bryn shouts, excitedly hugging her Uncle. The other kids follow, though Dave has to warn Antony about hugging too hard around his very swollen pouch.

"Dave, this is my boyfriend, Rodney," John says with a stilted grin.

"A pleasure," Dave replies, shaking Rodney's hand. Rodney has no idea how he does it, but his handshake communicates, 'Pretend we don't know each other and don't you dare fuck this up.' Rodney supposes that must be how business is conducted. He doesn't envy Elizabeth, if she has to deal with people like Dave all day.

"Where's Darren?" John asks.

"He's inside grabbing a cooler full of drinks. I'm doing enough heavy lifting as it is." Dave gestures to his belly.

"How's he doing?"

"Really active, like I told you. He's napping, so I can at least man the barbecue for now, but in about half an hour he'll probably be up and bothering us again."

"You're the one who decided not to get his tubes tied," John teases. Rodney wonders for a second whether all his speculation about a family with John might be in vain, if John has already had the procedure done himself.

"I had to catch up to you first," Dave teases back.

"You're going to do it now?"

"Probably not. This incubation has been a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't say no to another. Especially not if it's Darren doing the carrying next time."

"I heard that!" They all turn to see Dave's husband emerge from a set of glass doors leading into the house. He's taller than Rodney would have guessed from the photos, but his broad shoulders must be deceptive. "Not letting you knock me up again any time soon." Darren drops the cooler he's carrying and comes over to wrap his arms around his husband, giving Dave's belly a gentle pat.

"We'll see about that," Dave replies, kissing his husband briefly before squirming out of his arms and handing John the spatula he's been holding. "Damnit, you woke him up."

Darren shrugs, watching his husband unzip the opening on his paternity suit just in time for a child to poke his head out. He's smaller than the giant bulge would suggest, with dark eyes and soft black baby hair. He gives a laugh, reaching out for John, who dutifully walks over to grab a tiny hand and place a kiss on his head.

"Hey, Uncle Dave," Luke asks, "Can I hold him?"

"He's all yours," Dave replies, lifting a very naked baby out of his pouch and handing him off. "He's not supposed to spend more than twenty minutes out for now," he cautions, but seems happy to return to the barbecue.

"So, what's the plan for the afternoon?" John asks.

"Lunch. We've got lamb kebobs and grilled bell peppers. Then Jerome and I can take a nap while the rest of you play a game of tag or capture the flag. We can let the kids play in the pool for a while and then dinner. I decided to keep the staff on offset holidays instead of giving all of them the weekend off. The post-emergence has been a little difficult. I'm not as young as I used to be. Remind me how I managed to incubate two and go to school at the same time."

"You weren't spoiled by a staff back then," Darren offers.

"You didn't have other kids to take care of at the same time," John adds. "But I'd blame it on age, old man."

"Last I checked you were older than me."

"By a few months!"

Dave launches into a protest recounting all the times John used his "few months" to argue for why he should get to do things rather than Dave when they were young.

Rodney can't help but smile at the brothers. They're obviously glad to see each other, reminiscing and chatting about the happenings of the past week. Even though they both work at the same company, it's obvious that they keep their work separate for the most part and communicate casually at their many family functions.

It's not long before Rodney is swamped by Dave's kids. Antony's pouchmate, Malik, is even more of a beanpole than either John or Antony, probably in the middle of a growth spurt. But despite the awkwardly long limbs, Rodney can tell he'll grow up to very handsome, with the Sheppard hazel eyes and dark golden skin. He wants to be an architect, bugging Rodney about his engineering qualifications and rambling on about how helped his dad do some of the designs for their house - specifically the entertainment room, where he has a playstation, if Rodney wants to play.

The two eight-year-old doublets are even worse, already demanding the Rodney swim with them and launch them off his shoulders the way Dave apparently does when he's not carrying. They're also very insistent that the best strategy for a game of tag in the woods behind the house is to be on the right team. Apparently, Will is the most competitive of the whole group, so they want to be on his team. John and Dave are very competitive too, but they have bouts of "setting a good example," something the doublets clearly disapprove of.

When the time finally comes for a game of tag, the adults are persuaded by Bryn and Luke to play humans vs. zombies instead. After some skepticism on John's part, they decide they will play, only in pairs. The kids don't seem to mind that caveat, clearly something they're used to in order to keep both Antony and the younger kids supervised. Rodney ends up armed with a nerf gun and paired with P.J., who is the shorter and louder of the doublets.

It's a little disturbing, the loud war cry the kids give when Dave gives all the groups except for the "zombies" the okay to take off into the woods.

Rodney admits, he's scared by the forest of tall, skeletal birch trees and maple trees with the ominous dappled pattern their leaves create in the shadows. He still feels the chills run down his spine, even after John assured him that the woods behind Dave's house have more security cameras and monitoring equipment installed in them than the Louvre. He even went so far as to explain that one night he and Dave conspired to terrify Luke and Bryn when they were found them sneaking out at night by using the hidden speaker system to taunt them with disembodied ghost voices. Rodney is less than reassured.

It doesn't take long for Luke and Cody (the original zombies) to find Rodney and P.J. and tag them, meaning that they have to surrender their nerf guns. The new zombie army agrees to split up and look for John and Malik. Rodney wants to know why they're not interested in Bryn and Darren, because he suspects that Bryn's slacker nature (and the fact that she walked into the woods while texting) will make them a easy target. But the doublets are determined to get their brother and as Dave's children they are also apparently always for taking out their uncle.

All of Rodney's demands for caution are overridden. Of course, Rodney's eight-year-old charge is anything but freaked out by the forest or the fact that they're pretending to be zombies hunting humans for brains. He yanks Rodney through the underbrush to a moss-covered fallen log, where he quickly uncovers a spongebob lunchbox containing a thin but sturdy rope.

"What are you doing?" Rodney whispers.

"There's a path down there that Uncle John always uses to come look for us," P.J. replies. "We're going to set a tripwire."

"You're not serious." If P.J. is not one of the competitive ones, then Rodney hates to think what Will and Antony and John and Malik are plotting right now. "You know your dad is probably watching us from a security camera at this exact moment. He can't approve of something so dangerous."

"It was his idea," P.J. replies nonchalantly. "He loves it when Uncle John loses. Besides, we're going to make a bed of leaves so that he doesn't hurt himself when he falls down."

"Great." Rodney is being inducted into a family of crazy people, but he helps P.J. gather a pile of dried leaves and moss nonetheless.

"When they were kids, Uncle John tied Dad to a tree for five hours once. But Dad put a tarantula in Uncle John's violin case to get back at him."

Rodney's own competitive childhood had been more academic battles than prank wars, but he understands the frustration of a sibling. He wonders if Jeannie and her deadbeat stay-at-home husband will want to bring the family over for Christmas so John can meet them. He can just imagine her excitement about meeting his first legitimate boyfriend in years.

P.J. doesn't waste time; he sets the tripwire without any help from Rodney, explaining that the whole family takes camping trips where John and Dave teach them "useful" things how to tie knots.

"So what does P.J. stand for?" Rodney asks when the tripwire is done.

"Patrick Junior, after Grandpa. Uncle John doesn't like it, so he started calling me P.J. Grandpa's also a Patrick Junior, because _his_ Grandpa was called Patrick too. He's Patrick Henry the seventh and I'm the eighth. Cool, huh?"

"Cool." Rodney hadn't been under the impression that Dave was happy enough with his father to call his son Patrick Junior, but he supposes that if it's a family name, Dave wouldn't be the one to break the tradition.

It doesn't take long for John to come running down the path, as predicted.

"You distract him and I'll jump him," P.J. whispers.

"Hey, how come I have to be bait?" Rodney whispers back loudly.

"Because you're loud and I don't think Uncle John would like you falling on him. You look heavy," P.J. replies. For all he looks like a little boy, he has a seriousness about him that he must have inherited from his father, who probably would have given the exact same deadpan logic.

"Okay, I'll give you that." Rodney moves down the trail a little, about to make a noise, but his inherent lack of stealth is enough to get John to turn his head and choose the fork in the path that takes him away from Rodney and towards P.J. Rodney winces as John hits the tripwire and goes flying into the bed of leaves that P.J. nicely arranged to pad his fall.

"Get down," John shouts to Malik, who follows his order, ducking behind a rock with his nerf gun ready.

However, they're no match for P.J., who springs out of the bushes and jumps on top of John, tagging him and giggling before Malik gets a return shot that is supposed to incapacitate the zombies for five minutes.

"It's up to you, Rodney!" P.J. shouts, playing dead but asking his Uncle if he got hurt falling as well.

Rodney dodges Malik's few nerf gun shots, finding himself ducking behind tree trunks and rocks like this isn't just a game. P.J. is shouting encouragements, while John is taunting him and that just makes Rodney that much more determined, lunging from behind the nearest tree in a way that he knows is going to leave bruises on his chest in the morning, but managing to grab Malik's ankle along the way.

"Victory!" P.J. yells, jumping up from where he's supposedly stunned. John pushes himself up and dusts the dirt from the pile of leaves off. "You're in big trouble, mister," John says to P.J. "No more rope traps. Somebody could get hurt."

P.J. nods, but grins unrepentantly.

"Good fighting, tiger." John gives Rodney a kiss after helping him up off the ground. "So, now I have to wait another ten minutes before I can rise from the dead as a zombie, and then we can go get Will."

John strategizes a brilliant plan to ambush the lightning-hole in an old tree where Will and Antony are holed up, leaving Bryn and Darren the last humans standing.

They all make their way back to the house, laughing and talking about John's crazy kamikaze zombie tactics. Rodney wonders why he never thought to have a family like this or why his father never bothered to make life this fun for Rodney and Jeannie. Instead, Rodney's childhood had been a race to grow up and achieve more. He still only receives a call or a letter from his father when he publishes something in one of the journals his father subscribes to. He couldn't imagine "the Professor" playing a human or a zombie.

Rodney starts second-guessing his love of family time, however, when the kids all insist that he join them in the pool. The thing about kids, especially the young ones, is that you can't just turn them off when you're done playing with them. John, that bastard, just leaves him to his fate, in favor of sitting at the patio table with his brother, having an intense conversation about stock prices (or so Rodney assumes, since he can't hear anything over the shrill sounds of all the kids shouting and splashing). Even though Luke and Will take over some of Dave's doublet-throwing duties, Rodney is sure that his back will not forgive him after this afternoon's play.

After a delicious dinner of salmon and mashed potatoes, the family splits into smaller groups. John, Dave and Will agree to play Monopoly with Antony and the doublets, while Darren, Luke and Bryn wander off to another wing of the massive house. Rodney refuses to play and encourage any more corporate mogul behavior from the next generation. Dave laughs and stiffly replies that Sheppard Industries absolutely does not deal in real estate, but lands on Water Works and buys it his next turn, making John burst into laughter and tease him that the company already has fifteen water treatment plants and he doesn't need another.

Dave is winning by the time Rodney gets bored and decides to check on the other group, proving that Monopoly probably isn't just a game of chance.

He's checking the kitchen for leftovers of the delicious cherry pie they had for dessert when he hears it - the sounds of a piano playing a rhythmic beat, a crystal clear voice hitting the perfect deep alto over it. It's been a long time since Rodney let himself indulge in a live concert, considering how melancholy he normally is after listening to a life he could've lead if he'd had more talent. He's drawn to the music like a moth to a flame.

Rodney makes his way closer to the front of the house where there's a sunken living room with an oriental rug and a bright crystal chandelier. There's a antique Steinway grand piano on a raised platform at the front of the room and Darren is sitting at the keyboard, with Bryn standing next to him singing, "I got rhythm. I got music. I got my man. Who can ask for anything more?"

Rodney smiles, awed by the maturity and booming sound coming from Bryn's small, unassuming frame. Darren looks happy to play for her.

"Old man trouble, I don't mind him. You won't find him, round my door."

Rodney is entranced, entering with much more stealth than he bothered with during the whole humans vs. zombies game.

"I got starlight. I got sweet dreams. I got my man. Who could ask for anything more?" Bryn sings, looking directly at Luke, where he's sitting on the couch. Rodney feels as though he's intruding, not just on the family, but on something intimate between the two of them. He tries to imagine wanting to marry as a sibling pair, but he can't even fathom the kind of strange chemistry that occurs between siblings that allows that to happen. Looking at the expression of pure joy on Bryn's face, he finds that he can't help be happy for her and Luke that they've found that kind of love.

"Hey, Rodney!" Darren exclaims the second the song is over. "We're just doing a little riffing here. Bet you didn't know this girl could sing." He smiles at his niece. "Sadly, she's the only Sheppard with any vocal talent."

Luke nods in agreement.

"Your husband?"

Darren laughs. "My husband plays classical, and _only_ classical violin. Doesn't have a syncopated bone in his body. Your John used to play violin too, and now plays the guitar quite well."

"He tries to sing sometimes," Bryn adds with a wince. "Luckily for Dad, it's pretty hard to screw up Johnny Cash."

Darren chuckles. "My boys could care less about what I do for a living. They're all interested in sports. But I've always had little Bryn." He gives his niece a small one-armed hug. "She could make a career out of it if she wanted. And if her father would let me produce an album for her."

"Uncle Darren," Bryn protests, blushing.

"What? Sweetheart, it's true. You can do anything you want and if you want to be a musician, you know I'll help you. Now, what about you, Rodney? Any hidden talents?"

Rodney hasn't talked about it in years, to anyone, John included, but he finds himself opening up to this _famous_ keyboardist, admitting, "I used to play the piano. Classical, mostly. I wanted to be a concert pianist, but my teacher told me that I had all the technical proficiency of a child prodigy, but none of the art."

"Bullshit," Darren replies. "Excuse my language, kids."

"Swear jar?" Luke asks with a smirk.

"The swear jar has been retired for the two of you for a long time. But, Rodney, there's no such thing as having no art in music."

"Obviously not." That's something that Rodney has come to realize over the years - no one is all technical proficiency, creativity and soul are just as much part of the human condition as happiness, pain and fear. "But she was right. In order to make it as a professional, you have to be better than everyone else and what makes you better is art, not technical skill."

"Nobody's asking you to be a professional here," Darren remarks, ironic considering that he _is_ a professional. "It's just family. Now get yourself up here. I have some sheet music and I'll grab my bass and we can all play together."

"You're not making Luke play!" Rodney protests, even as Bryn is physically dragging him up to the piano.

"Luke, go grab one of the saxophones from the recording room."

"You've got to be kidding me," Rodney complains. "You have them all playing instruments?"

"I _was_ one of the people who raised these two," Darren points out. "I wasn't going to let them slack on their musical education.

Luke returns a second later, while Rodney is doing a quick read through of the music for 'Mack the Knife.' "Got to start with the Classics," Darren explains. "We'll do a little improve at this section, here. You'll get the hang of it."

Rodney doesn't have time to protest before Darren gives a three count and he and Luke are starting already. Rodney feels flat footed and out of practice. He hasn't played in over twenty years, but he doesn't want to ruin "family day" by being a stick in the mud. His fingers dance over the keys as though no time has passed at all. He still remembers the music, feels the beat in his bones. Ironically, it took nearly forty years of life for him to relax into it and just play.

When it comes time to improvise, Darren goes first with a fast paced solo, his fingers dancing up and down the neck of his bass. Next it's Luke, who slows the theme down, adding subtle but difficult variations to it. He's not the most talented of the group, but he's smiling while he blows into the saxophone, catching his sister's eye and bouncing to the beat. When it comes to his turn, Rodney is blinded by a moment of panic, he muddles through his section, but finds that it's not as bad as he anticipated. In fact, he gets into it, playing until Bryn starts in on the lyrics again, giving him a good-natured elbow to the ribs where she's sitting next to him on the piano bench.

When they're done, Rodney is panting, exhilarated.

"See, I told you there's some art there," Darren laughs. "Next song."

They play a few more of the classics - 'Dream a Little Dream of Me,' 'On the Sunny Side of the Street,' 'Fever' - before Darren pulls out a beat-up looking old notebook, removing a few pages of composer's music, with the notes drawn in neat pencil.

"A new song, Uncle Darren?" Bryn sounds delighted.

"Written specifically for you, baby girl," Darren replies.

Bryn squeals, giving her Uncle a quick hug before studying the music.

It's a jazz song, a slow mix of blues and cabaret. The piano section is surprisingly uncomplicated, clearly intended to compliment the vocals rather than showcase the musician. Usually, Darren's songs have good lyrics, but extended instrumental sections in order to focus on his greater musical talent.

"You two good?" Darren asks Rodney and Luke, who looks a little confused, but nods anyway.

The song begins with the piano, which Rodney is happy to accommodate. He's already noticed a few notes he might change (or maybe the pencil needs to be less smudged), but he plays through.

"They told me not to run with scissors," Bryn sings, sounding more vulnerable that Rodney has ever heard her, like a real jazz singer, "but I ran anyway." Rodney can appreciate the sentiment.

"They told me not to play with fire," she continues, "but how many romances begin by candlelight? They told me not to talk to strangers, but I traveled the world of persons unknown."

There's a pause for a few simple chords. Bryn looks at Darren uncertainly, but he nods for her to continue.

"But of all the things they never told me, before I was full grown. They never told me: It won't be scissors that will cut you down. It won't be fire that sets your soul alight. And it won't be a stranger who breaks your tired heart."

Those are all wise lessons, Rodney realizes. He wishes his father would have taught him that instead of the thousand little paranoias he'd inherited instead.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall and it wasn't love that caused him to fall. You say you're the king, and I'm your women. We kissed and when I'm broken, I'll pick up the pieces and put myself together again."

Another brief instrumental section, this time focusing on the bass.

"But there's no nursery rhyme for the loveless. There's no cautionary tale for life. There's no lullaby to soothe a wounded spirit and no song to make it right," Bryn sings the chorus, really putting her vocal range into it. Rodney thinks that she could be truly successful with this song.

"Jack and Jill went up a hill. You fell down and broke your crown and asked me to come tumbling after."

Then she repeats the chorus, adding a different vocal inflection to it this time, experimenting.

"Baby, I'm too old to run with scissors, too wise to play with fire, too scared to talk to strangers, wounded so many times. But I still need so many things - a nursery rhyme for beauty, a cautionary tale for love, a lullaby for healing, a song to sing my worries, a hand to hold onto, a kiss before I sleep.

"So will your hand be comfort? Will your kiss be soothing? Your song, a lullaby? Or are you another lesson? Will I lean my lesson? Please let me learn my lesson."

They pause for a minute after the last chord has faded. Rodney is lost in the meaning of the words, wondering if he's learned the lesson's that life has tried to teach him. He wonders if he's been someone else's lesson and hopes he can be the one singing a lullaby, especially for John.

Darren meets his unfocused gaze, a twinkle in his eye. "I wrote this song because life isn't simple. Nobody can teach you the things you need to learn, no matter hard they might want to try."

Rodney nods. There are a lot of lessons that people should never learn - like the lessons John has learned - to mistrust or to shy away from a certain kind of touch, or to keep secrets. There are some very bad cautionary tales that people can take away from life.

Bryn is more focused on the song itself. "You really want me to sing this song for you, Uncle Darren?"

He nods.

"But I don't know if it's true. I mean, I don't know if I'm old enough to not run with scissors or wise enough not to play with fire."

Darren laughs. "That's part of the irony of the song, Bryn. You're never old enough to have learned every cautionary tale and the fact that the song's written for someone who's barely learned the lessons of childhood let alone adulthood is part of that. I'm an old guy and I'm still learning. I learn a lot of wisdom from you kids, even if you might not be wise yet."

Rodney thinks that while in terms of pure IQ, Darren will never be as brilliant as Rodney, but maybe he has a different kind of intelligence - that's why his songs are so popular.

"I really like it," Bryn admits. "I hope Daddy will let me sing it with you."

"Me too. Now, how about another run through? I'm going to fix a few notes on Rodney's sheet music and we can start again."

The song is no less haunting on the second rehearsal, or the third. Rodney's lost count of how many times they've gone through it when he notices John standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. He looks a little sad too - probably thinking about how grown up his daughter sounds singing about grownup things.

"Good job, honey," John says, giving his daughter a kiss on the forehead.

"Uncle Darren thinks I should sing professionally," she tells him.

"If that's what _you_ want." He gives Darren a pointed look. "But you have to know that's what you want to do with your life."

Bryn nods. "Maybe just this song. Could I sing it with Uncle Darren anonymously? It's really beautiful."

"It is," John agrees. "We'll talk about it later." His voice indicates no room for argument, but Bryn seems content with that - tired. Rodney looks at his watch, surprised to find that it's already after ten at night. "Dave passed out a hour ago, buddy," John informs Darren, in a way that lets his brother-in-law know that he might be in the doghouse. "And I got the doublets settled."

"Thanks," Darren replies. "We got caught up in the music."

"No problem. Antony has a doctor's appointment tomorrow, so he's spending the morning with me, but the others all have school."

Bryn and Luke groan in protest.

"Sorry guys, time to go. Grab your stuff."

As the kids run off, John turns to Rodney, giving him a slow, lingering kiss. "You've been hiding things from me."

"What!?" Rodney exclaims, his heart racing. Did Dave tell him they'd met earlier? And why? Dave stood to be in as much trouble as Rodney.

"I didn't know you played the piano."

"Oh," Rodney barely muffles his sigh of relief. "I haven't played since I was young. But your brother-in-law is very persuasive."

"That he is. So did you enjoy yourself?"

Rodney can't stop the grin spreading across his features. "Well, other than the possible encounters with Lyme disease in those terrifying woods you made me go into and the herniated disc I'm sure to acquire from throwing kids around a pool all afternoon, yes."

"Good." John takes a deep breath, wincing as though he's about to be tortured, but all he says is, "my family is really important to me, Rodney. I'm happy that you're willing to put up with us."

"Of course," Rodney replies. "It wasn't even a matter of putting up with it."

"Admit it, you like playing in the woods," John teases.

"Never," Rodney swears, leaning in for another kiss.

***

Rodney has finished the initial blueprints for the hyperdrive refit well ahead of John's schedule, but behind what Rodney would be capable of without John as a wonderful distraction. John invites him to the Grotto, an exclusive Guild-rated restaurants in the city, in order to celebrate, but something in his tone says that it's more.

Rodney's so nervous that he sweats through two dress shirts before deciding to cover the stains with a dinner jacket. He knows what this could be. It could be John asking him to move in and he already knows the answer. But a small part of him is crying out that maybe it's a breakup dinner. They have the blueprints and a team of engineers and maybe John doesn't want to see him anymore, now that he's gotten Rodney to complete his project.

Then again, it would be stupid for John to assume that a relationship would increase Rodney's productivity and John's not stupid. It would also be stupid to break up with Rodney in public, considering that Rodney has no qualms about causing a scene wherever he may be - something John must have learned when he accompanied Rodney to Malcolm's disaster of a tech symposium a few weeks back.

But then John's car pulls up and the glazed look in John's eyes upon seeing Rodney in a deep sapphire blue shirt and a black suit, puts Rodney's fears to rest. John looks dazed with lust, rushing up the stairs to pull Rodney into a kiss without even a word.

"You look amazing," John whispers into Rodney's lips.

"Not so bad yourself." Which is the understatement of the century, considering how good John looks in white slacks and a tight silky black t-shirt. He can't help himself; he has to lean forward and run his hands down John's chest. John whimpers, leaning into the touch and into a passionate kiss.

"You're lucky I made reservations with the chef personally or I'd just take you right here."

Rodney laughs, pulling John back for another kiss. "You're too noble. I wouldn't let that stop me."

"You haven't met Chef Ramsey."

"I'm not scared of him," Rodney replies. "I'm a genius." He pushes up against John, eliciting another desperate gasp.

John leaned forward, resting his forehead against Rodney's. "Still, a reservation is a reservation."

The restaurant is beautiful, with a flowing wall of water on one side and deep mood lighting, giving the feeling of a secluded cave. But what Rodney can't help but focus on is the number of men who are carrying. He'd say one in every four has a noticeable swelling in his pouch. Rodney doubts he's even seen so many nobles in one place before, even at the Guild Club with John's brother.

A few people acknowledge John with a nod or a smile. An incredibly well-dressed couple waves them over on the way to their table and John exchanges a quick word before guiding Rodney to one of the more private tables against the back wall. Rodney overhears them question John about his dinner guest, but John deflects, mentioning that Rodney is a brilliant engineer by not that he's John's boyfriend. Sometimes Rodney can forget his semi-noble status, especially with John, who treats him with nothing but love and respect, but in a place like this, he can't help but remember that he is in fact a social pariah for those of John's class. An unregistered child with noble blood is incredibly unusual, but Rodney is one of those rare unfortunates, leaving him in their strange limbo between the truth of his genetics and recognition by his supposed peers.

Normally he wouldn't spare one moment to think about it. Plebeian life is no worse at making him happy than a life of nobility would be. And in the academic world, a genius is a genius is a genius. His pedigree has no bearing on his ability to do cutting-edge science (and do it spectacularly) and all his clients recognize that.

But he sometimes forgets that John lives and breathes this world. With Rodney he's just a down-to-earth guy, who likes college football and Star Trek and flirtatious arguments about meaningless things, but when they're apart, John is a businessman and captains of industry are still mostly nobility, even in the 21st Century.

"Sorry about that," John says, giving Rodney's hand a comforting squeeze. "I probably shouldn't have taken you here, but I know that you would kill for the beef Wellington. And a well-fed Rodney is a happy Rodney."

"It'd better be some truly spectacular beef Wellington," Rodney grumbles, but he's secretly pleased. John isn't always the most considerate boyfriend - he takes phone calls far too often during their personal time and he's stubborn and righteous, but he makes up for it with small tokens of affection.

The Wellington turns out to be pretty spectacular, but Rodney's afraid that he's not really enjoying it. He can't seem to shake this jittery feeling that whatever John brought him here for can't be good. John is all shy smiles and praise for Rodney's work on the project, but the more Rodney looks at him, the more regret he can see in his eyes.

Finally, John sighs, reaching across the table to still the nervous movement of Rodney's hand. "I have to tell you something," he says.

Rodney is too on edge to answer.

"We've changed a lot of our habits since we've gotten together, so this might be a change."

Rodney gulps. It's a break-up. How dare John look so good for a break-up dinner!

"We're getting a new government contract and they want me to spend time at the site. It's a remote location, so I'm not sure how long I'll be gone." Thank god, Rodney thinks. It's not a break-up; it's just some bad news.

"That's good," Rodney replies, struggling to be encouraging, though the idea of not seeing John for who knows how long threatens him with a loneliness he hadn't recognized in himself before. "The new contract, I mean, not the leaving part."

John smiles. "You've been practically living at my place and spending a lot of time with the kids, so it's going to be a disruption in all our routines."

"I could still come over."

John nods. "I think you should keep tutoring Bryn, if you don't mind. But I don't want to give Antony the wrong impression."

"What do you mean?"

"That you're always going to be there for him if you might not be."

Rodney knows he shouldn't be mad. John is entitled to his pessimism, but it still hurts. "So our relationship has an expiration date? One day I'll just be gone."

John shakes his head, looking sad. "No. I don't have any plans either way. Right now, I feel like I could spend the rest of my life with you, but feelings change. I just want to see how this goes - live in the moment and not worry about our future together. But Antony doesn't see the world that way. He needs to understand that your presence is conditional on my relationship with you, so if we do end up apart, he won't think you'll keep coming back for him."

The idea that John sees forever as a possibility does a little to stifle the hurt, but Rodney can't help but wish for a commitment. He _deserves_ a commitment, after all these years of aimlessly following the path of academic and financial succes his father expected of him, not even realizing how happy he could be until he met John. But he also knows better than to demand that of John. He knows that John may never be ready for any kind of romantic commitment whatsoever.

"I'll call you as much as I can," John promises. "I'll miss you."

He stands up and walks around the table so he can give Rodney a kiss. Like all of John's kisses, it's hungry and enthusiastic, but this time it's also bittersweet.

***

John is right: it's a tough transition between the life they've built together and now. Rodney's back to drinking eleven cups of coffee a day, staying up into the small hours of the night working and then crashing. He's grumpier, he knows by Elizabeth's disapproving scowls. But he feels out-of-place for the first time in his life, rather than simply complacent. He hadn't known how it could be and now that he's denied that, he's at a loss.

He still drives over to the Sheppard mansion to meet Bryn for tutoring, but their easy camaraderie has been replaced by a stilted awkwardness that Rodney doesn't understand. He attributes it to stress over missing her father, because Bryn doesn't seem to want to talk about him at all, but Rodney knows so little about teenaged girls that it could be anything.

The other children are scarce. Will and Luke stay at school late for practices and Antony is spending time with his uncle and cousins.

Rodney still talks to John virtually every day, however. Sometimes it's just to update him on the hyperdrive progress, but other times it's like the day when they first got to know each other - talking for hours about everything and nothing. Rodney misses John even more when he finally puts the phone down after one of those conversations. And he can tell by the sound of John's voice that he misses Rodney too.

Rodney wants to visit John, but when he asks Lorne about it, he pretends not to know anything, so the project must be even beyond Rodney's clearance.

"Hey." Even though it's just one word, Rodney swears that he can hear John's excitement in it.

"Hey," Rodney responds, trying to play it cool even though he misses John the way a person misses a limb or an organ or anything indispensable.

"I tutored Bryn today. She's not nearly as dumb as she likes to pretend. Actually, I'm not sure she needs my help if she just wants to study calculus and not try for topology or number theory. She can figure it out on her own. She just needs someone to make sure she stays on top of things."

"I hear you. With me and Dave, we were always so competitive that it made us disciplined. But Bryn and Luke are more likely to blow off their homework together than compete about anything, and Will isn't in the same grade."

"My sister and I were pretty competitive, too, even though she's a few year younger. I think you just need the drive. Jeanie has a nasty competitive streak. Speaking of which, do you know what's going on with Bryn? She seems distracted and a little distant recently."

There's a long pause on the end of the line before John responds. "It's a teenager thing. Sometimes they just push you away for whatever reason - a boy or girl, some random thing you said, something you didn't do. I'm sure it will blow over. She and Luke are probably getting serious about some guy."

"Teenagers. No wonder they're completely useless. They're just walking hormones."

"Hey, you and I were teenagers once. We did stupid things." But neither of them had the carefree years of crushes and long summer days. Rodney was in college at Bryn's age and John was married and carrying, finishing off his senior year and his associates degree from home.

"Speak for yourself. I never did stupid things."

John's laughter is welcome, despite how braying and strange it is. "Of course you never did anything stupid your whole life."

"That's right. So, how's the project?"

"Good."

"That's it? Good?"

"You know I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Rodney is unrepentantly jealous of whatever it is that's so classified that John can't tell him. It's even got Lorne pretending he's never heard of it. Or maybe it's so top secret that Lorne doesn't even know. "You know me," he complains. "I can't stand for someone to tell me they know something and then not tell me what it is. You could tell me you know the secret end to Gossip Girl and I'd still be mad that you wouldn't tell me, even though I could write a treatise on how much I don't care about that show."

John's laugh is a little stilted. Obviously, keeping secrets from Rodney makes him uncomfortable. As it should. "I know, but I still can't tell you. How about you? Wanna tell me about the hyperdrive progress?"

"Faster than humanly possible. Not all your employees are completely stupid, by the way. Jennifer is okay, if you like voodoo, that is. And that Zelunka fellow can at least execute my ideas and sometimes provide helpful, if rudimentary input. But you still haven't fired Kavanagh. I've tried to fire him five times already, but some hag from HR informed him that I didn't have firing power."

"That's because you don't. I value your opinion, Rodney, but I do have a staff to handle those things in a delicate, lawsuit-avoiding way."

"How long does it take them? He could have us all killed before then."

"Zel _en_ ka's had annual performance reviews on his to do list for a month now. Maybe if you remind him to finish them, he'll recommend we let go of Dr. Kavanagh sooner?"

"Bureaucracy. That's why I have Elizabeth."

"How's she doing?"

"Fine," Rodney grumbles. John had Elizabeth and her family over for dinner with them once and now he's obsessed with her - asking about her all the time, getting her opinion on potential hires that happened to fall outside of McKay-Weir's price range, sending her a pearl necklace for her birthday. "She told me to tell you that she appreciates the pearls."

"Wait, are you jealous?" John snorts. "She's your business partner and married, and female, which I already explained I'm not into. I just happen to like her. Probably for the same reasons you like her."

"She does your taxes?"

"Because she's intelligent, funny, entertaining, and passionate about the field we all happen to be in. And you don't have to worry about me being attracted to anyone other than you. I went years without dating until I found the right person, and I intend to stick with him."

Rodney feels a swell of warmth in his heart, and embarrassingly, somewhere else. "I wish you were here," he says, meaning it.

John seems to pick up the undercurrent of lust in Rodney's tone because he replies, "I wish I was too. I can think of a million things I'd like to do to you right now."

"Like what?" Rodney feels like an asshole demanding a list, but John should know by now that Rodney's scientific curiosity is absolute.

"Hmmm," John purrs. "I'd start by slowly peeling off your clothes. Then I'd taste you all over. Give you a blow job. Tease you until you can barely take it anymore, throw on a cock ring and make you fuck me until I'm spent and then rim you until you come all over my naked chest."

Rodney's touching himself and half-hard, but John's matter-of-fact description has passed before he can even work up a mood. "That's your idea of dirty talk?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" Rodney can 't practically hear the smirk. "In that case, oh baby, are you touching yourself? I can feel you inside me. Oh, yeah." John moans exaggeratedly for a second before cracking up.

"I think I'd be better off in the shower, imagining you with a gag in your mouth."

"Kinky." John adds a few more theatrical moans.

"I hate you."

"No, I think you love me."

"You're right. I do." Rodney has no problem admitting it. He just can't wait for John to get home. Then maybe, just maybe, they can make something a little more serious out of this. Rodney's not going to be springing a ring on John anytime soon after his previous experience, but maybe Rodney can end the fiction of his condo, or even officially adopt the Sheppard children. Or maybe John wants a ring or a second family. Rodney's certainly not going to complain about either.

"I love you too."

"John," Rodney knows that bringing it up could be a huge disaster, but he's suddenly struck by the deep desire to know. "Would you be opposed to someday getting married, or maybe having another child? Hypothetically, of course. No pressure."

There's a pause on the other end of the line and a soft, almost inaudible gasp that sounds almost like pain. Or maybe Rodney's imagining things.

"Someday, hypothetically, maybe," John finally replies. He takes a deep breath before continuing. "Rodney, there are some things I haven't told you. You know I haven't seen anyone else since my marriage and I know you must have suspicions about why. But," John trails off. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this talking about my emotions thing."

Rodney's not sure if it's the right thing to say, but he hates to hear John agonizing, even if it is only over talking. "It's okay. Your brother already sat me down and told me."

"Everything?"

"That your husband beat you and used you as nothing more than a sex object and a vessel for his children."

"I guess that's close to everything. It seems so simple when you say it. I can't believe I've never _told_ anyone. I have to let my brother do it for me."

"Hey, it's okay. I understand that marriage and carrying would be scary for you. I just. I hope that someday that's where this relationship is going. I don't need anything right now and honestly, I think I could give up those things for you." Rodney's shocked to find how right that sentence feels: that he could be happy with John even if he's always wanted a spouse and a family. He'll still have Bryn, Will, Luke, and Antony.

John sighs. "I want those things to be possible for us, Rodney. I'm not going to give up, but you have to understand. I can't." John's voice sounds strained, as though he's on the verge of tears, even though Rodney hasn't been pushing.

"It's okay, John," he fumbles, wondering for the first time if he can actually handle John's emotions about his past. Rodney knows he's not the most sensitive or empathetic person. He could read a whole library on domestic abuse and PTSD and still not be of any use. "It's not something we have to consider right now."

If anything, John sounds more frantic. "You'd forgive me if it never happens?"

"I'd still love you, no matter what happens."

John seems only marginally reassured, but there's really not much more that Rodney can do over the phone, so he changes the subject to the latest episode of Dr. Who, which John has somehow managed to see even squirreled away at some top-secret location. Rodney wishes more than ever that he could just see him, hold him and tell him that everything will be alright and that Rodney's sorry for even bringing the whole thing up.

***

Rodney's lonely enough that he actually starts reading the hard copy of the newspaper, and is surprised to find an announcement for a judo championship in town. Luke will of course be competing, and Rodney finds that he wants to be there for him, especially since John can't be.

Rodney gets caught up in his work, so he shows up a little late and has trouble finding parking. But he gathers up his coffee mug and the bleacher pad John had bought for him when he complained about the hard seats at sporting events and heads for the gymnasium.

It's more crowded than Rodney would expect for such a little-known sport, but still not packed. It doesn't take long for him to spot Antony in a rainbow-colored tie-die shirt and his superman cape. What Rodney doesn't expect is to see John sitting there next to him, looking tired, but happy with his arm around his son and a smile on his face like it's any other day and he hadn't just told his boyfriend the night before that he wouldn't be back for another couple of weeks.

Rodney is so shocked that his coffee cup slips from his hands, spilling all over the gym floor. A woman dressed head to toe in school paraphernalia immediately retrieves a wad of Kleenex from her purse to help Rodney wipe up the mess, but he just stands there, staring.

He's caused enough of a commotion that John looks up, meeting Rodney's eyes from across the crowded gym. John doesn't move, just looks sad and somehow terrified. Rodney doesn't know what to do. He's certainly not ready to go over there and talk to John, so he turns and walks away, leaving the woman and his spilled coffee behind.

He drives home on autopilot, still not sure what to think. There could be a rational explanation for this. The military has beaming technology. Maybe something changed on the project and they beamed John back unexpectedly. Or maybe he'd planned to come back for Luke's meet and didn't want to tell Rodney for fear of him hounding Lorne for more visits.

But Occam's Razor will never come down on the side of military compassion for school activities. The simplest, most rational answer is that John doesn't want to see him anymore. Rodney can understand why. He'd been pretty clingy before John left. And John had been coerced and then abused in the past. Maybe their kind of intimacy is just too much for him. But Rodney is a major subcontractor in a project that John believes will help save lives, maybe even planets, so John couldn't just dump him.

In a John sort of way, faking a work trip makes much more sense than a break-up.

But that doesn't make it right. Rodney is in love with John, yes, but he's also a professional. He's hurt that John didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth. So instead of driving home and cooling down as he knows he should, he heads straight for the Sheppard mansion.

Edward takes one look at Rodney's face and doesn't argue when he demands to be let into John's office.

Rodney has constructed a very interesting monster truck course to vindictively destroy John's remote-control cars with by the time he hears the telltale commotion of the Sheppards returning.

He switches on the security camera feed he knows John has set up in order to keep an eye on Antony.

"Then Luke took him down!" Antony babbles excitedly, tugging on John's arm.

John gives him a tight-lipped smile, rubbing at the dark lines beneath his eyes.

"Luke, rah, rah," Will chimes in with a laugh, bouncing around and doing a cartwheel in the foyer.

Edward looks as though he's going to have an aneurysm at the behavior (despite there being ample space), but John doesn't bother to discipline his son.

"Dad, is something wrong?" Bryn asks, all big innocent eyes, but she's onto something. Rodney recognizes that look from when she finally figures out how to solve a difficult equation.

"No, honey," John sighs. "Everything's fine."

"Because I saw Rodney at the meet," she ploughs on with typical Sheppard determination.

"Rodney?" Antony pipes up. "Daddy said he went away," he adds, looking petulant and betrayed as well as mad that his sister would even bring it up.

Rodney isn't expecting it to hurt so much, hearing Antony blame him for something he didn't even do. He didn't _want_ to stay away. That's all John.

But John doesn't seem any more comfortable with it, ordering Edward to take Antony up to his room and Luke and Will to take a shower. He has to ask Bryn to give him some space for lack of anything to deter her from shooting him concerned looks.

"Okay," she finally gives in. "But I don't think it's fair what you've been doing to Rodney."

"It's adult stuff, sweetheart. You can't understand."

"Bullshit, Daddy. Rodney loves you. If you would just tell him--"

"Do you want to be grounded, young lady?"

"That's so not fair! Daddy, I'm young but not stupid. You can't just do this to him."

"I'm going to count to ten, Bryn. One, two--"

Bryn crosses her arms over her chest. "Fine, but I'm so not talking to you!"

"Fine," John replies, with typical Sheppard mulishness. Rodney actually has no idea who will win a battle of wills between John and his most stubborn child.

Rodney is gratified to know that the recent awkwardness between himself and Bryn is most likely do to her father's pig-headiness and has nothing to do with him. In fact, it seems as though she's the only one in this situation who has bothered to give a damn about him.

Rodney braces himself as he hears the footsteps approach the office door.

John doesn't look surprised, just resigned. "Edward let you in?"

Rodney nods.

"Rodney, I'm so sorry," John offers. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you failed," Rodney snaps. "You are such an asshole, Sheppard. We're both adults. I could've handled a break-up. Yeah, I thought what we had was special, but I've been dumped before and survived. In fact, I've survived just fine alone before you came along and I'll survive just fine without you."

That's not entirely true. Rodney might _survive_ but he won't be better off for it. He certainly won't even come close to the level of happiness he shared with John.

"Rodney--"

"No, just shut up and let me talk. I'm entitled. You wanted out, fine. But you lied to me. You had no right to string me along like this. I mean, spending hours on the phone with me playing the role of the long-distance boyfriend is the kind of manipulativeness I would expect from a corporate hack like you."

"I wasn't manipulating you, Rodney."

"Sure and not wanting to explicitly break up with me has nothing to do with the multi-billion dollar defense contract that I'm helping you fulfill? Please, John. I may not be a cold-hearted jerk like you, but I'm not stupid."

John actually has the gall to look hurt by that. "Rodney, I never thought you were stupid! I didn't want things to turn out this way, but they did! And I'm sorry. Please, just let me explain."

"You're a liar. That's all the explanation I need," Rodney concludes, not listening to another word of protest as he storms out the door and down the stairs.

"Rodney?" Antony is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "I thought you went away."

Rodney sighs, trying to fight the tears coming to his eyes realizing just how cruel the man he thought he loved can be - robbing his son of a constant he'd grown attached to without so much as an explanation.

Rodney can't help himself, he reaches out and pulls Antony close to him, holding on until he's afraid the kid he's grown to think of as his own can't breathe.

"Rodney? Why are you crying?"

"I didn't go away, Antony, but now I have to, okay?"

"But why?" Antony asks, throwing himself back into Rodney's arms.

"I just do." And fuck John for making Rodney do this. "But I love you, okay?"

Antony doesn't look as though he's willing to accept it, but Rodney can't stand to look at the hurt on his young face any longer, so he stands and makes as hasty an exit as he can manage.

When Rodney hears the door slam a second time behind him, he's surprised to see Bryn running after him, not John. Still when she grabs his arm and asks him to wait, he just shakes her off.

She looks shocked at the rough handling, but he recognizes the stubborn set of her jaw from John as she lithely maneuvers herself between Rodney and the door of his car. Her cheeks are flushed and her fiery red hair trails behind her like a mane. The whole scene matches her obvious rage. But it's not Rodney's fault that he's leaving. It's all her arrogant, manipulative, asshole of a father.

"Get out of the way!" he yells, getting right up in her face even when he realizes such anger is totally inappropriate towards a child.

But Bryn doesn't flinch. "No."

One thing Rodney did know going in to this whole relationship is that adding kids to the mix adds another level of responsibility. He won't hear any empty justification from John, but his children at least deserve some closure. "I'm sorry," he says, trying to be understanding when he wants nothing more than to get the hell out of this place and as far away from John Sheppard as possible. "But sometimes even if you love someone, it doesn't work out. It's nothing you did and I don't want--"

Bryn rolls her eyes. "I'm not a little kid whose parents are getting divorced. Been there, done that. I'm just trying to give you all the facts so you can make an informed decision, like you told me when I was rushing through my kinetics diagrams. You're a scientist. It doesn't make sense for you to make assumptions without understanding the situation."

And just like that, the winds of righteous anger go out of Rodney's sails. He should have at least given John a chance to speak even though he can't imagine what he would have said that could have made things alright. He's proud of this girl that he's come to love along with her father. Not many people can win an argument against Rodney McKay.

"Fine. Enlighten me."

"Dad still loves you," she insists. Rodney was too angry before, but somehow he can believe it. He wants to believe it. Those long hours on the phone weren't something anyone would put up with if they wanted nothing to do with their boyfriend. John sounded so genuinely sad when he told Rodney that he missed him. John is many things, but he isn't that good an actor.

"So what if he does? He still lied to me."

"I think," Bryn hesitates, biting her bottom lip. "I think that Dad is gestating."

"What?!" Rodney screeches. That doesn't make the betrayal any less. In fact, it makes it more.

"So, I know I'm not supposed to snoop," Bryn admits. Rodney had already seen John give her a lecture about it when she was talking about a boy at school who she thought was into Will, based on some doodles she'd seen in his Chemistry book.

"Well, I'll give you a free pass on this one, considering that it's not something that a man's supposed to hide."

Bryn nods, looking bolder. "Dad had been eating really weirdly and he was always snapping at us. Then he told me that I had to pretend like he was out of town when I had tutoring with you and Antony went to live with Uncle Dave and he actually let Will and Luke stay for late practice at school instead of insisting that they be home for family time. I wanted to know what was going on, so I checked his mail. Uncle Dave used to go through Dad's things sometimes when he thought he was in trouble and I thought he was in trouble, so I looked at his mail. I found an invoice from the Guild Health Service. It was for one of the doctors who operated on him a two years ago to repair tissue damage from his Pasteur rupture. Then dad was wearing all these old t-shirts and I remember how Uncle Dave only wore cashmere once his pouch started opening up because he was sensitive and so I hid in dad's closet when he was getting dressed, and I saw his pouch slit. It was open."

Rodney's knees go weak. He collapses back against the door of his car, letting Bryn step in to hold him up and then open the door to drop him into the driver's seat. "And you think I'm the father?"

Bryn swats at the back of his head. "Of course you are! Even the horses know that."

Rodney blushes. He thought he and John were being subtle for the sake of the kids, but apparently Bryn is much more observant than he gave her credit for, or just more of a snoop.

"Well that doesn't change anything. I don't expect you to understand, but he still lied to me and it's still obvious that he doesn't want me in his life, or in his child's life, anymore."

"Or he did this specifically so he could keep you in his life," she counters. "Think about it. Dad is a major player in the Guild. He can't just have a kid without anybody noticing. If he wanted you out of his life then he would have had to break up with you later anyway. But if you thought he was away on a business trip and he had never incubated, then you could go back to the way things were." She smiles at him. "We all really liked the way things were."

"You're saying that he was planning to bind?" Rodney is horrified. He's fantasized about a child with John. He'd wanted it so badly he could taste it and John is just throwing that away without even telling him.

"Maybe he was going to do an in-pouch adoption." Of course Bryn is defending her father, even though she obviously disagrees with him.

"Without telling me?"

Bryn sighs, looking sad and tired, older than her years. This is an adult problem and John isn't being a good father, letting his daughter shoulder the burden of dealing with it. "My dad is a good man and a wonderful father. But he's not perfect and he's a little fucked up. Will and Antony are too young to remember, but until Luke and I were five, Uncle Dave was pretty much our father." Even though all of this is water under the bridge, Bryn's eyes tear up a little as she says, "My first memory is Uncle Dave taking me out to the gardens at night and singing me a lullaby under the stars. Luke and I used to be _scared_ of dad. He'd yell and throw things and Uncle Dave would make the nanny takes us away so we didn't see. We'd hide under our bed after he came in to kiss us goodnight. I can't believe we did that when it wasn't Dad's fault. I read the court documents that Uncle Dave keeps in one of his safes. Michael raped dad almost every day. He kept him carrying and locked up in a wing of their house. I know dad's happy to have us kids and he doesn't blame us for what Michael did to him, but carrying has only ever hurt him and made him feel powerless."

Rodney had know it was bad from Dave's description, but not _that_ bad. And he feels even worse about the guilt John's daughter is obviously harboring over the way she behaved when she was probably three years old. "But _you_ know that what happened to John isn't your fault."

Bryn rolls her eyes. "Duh. I've heard that like a million times from the stupid therapists we used to all have to see. I'm _trying_ to explain to you why Dad can't handle carrying. For him, it's the same thing all over again. Dad was forced to marry Michael because he'd been fooling around with his high school boyfriend, my donor. Unfortunately, my donor was a pleb on scholarship and Grandpa couldn't have that. He gave dad three choices: bind his pouch, marry a suitable nobleman, or be disowned."

"He chose to have you."

Bryn nods. Rodney still can't tell by her expression if she really feels no guilt over what happened to her father, because she looks pained, the moisture around her eyes catching a few runaway strands of hair blowing around her in the wind. "He wanted a good life for me and he knew he couldn't give me that as a seventeen-year-old high school drop-out without any money or Guild status. So he married Michael and was tortured for three years because of it."

"I wouldn't do that to him. He has to know that."

Bryn shakes her head. "It's not rational with him. He's done really well hiding it from you, but sometimes he just loses himself. We'll be sitting together, laughing even, and all of a sudden he'll just go blank. He'll stare into space like he's watching something that's not there. With you, it got better, but now it's worse. It's like he was when we were living with Uncle Dave."

So maybe John is more broken than Rodney was willing to admit and was just pulling it together for Rodney's sake. But that doesn't excuse pushing Rodney away, especially when Rodney could have supported him. "I could help him. I want to help him. Why couldn't he let me?"

Bryn sighs. "Dad never asks for help. That's just how he is. He lets Uncle Dave help him, because they're brothers, but he puts on a show for everyone else."

"Now what? Do I go back in there?" Rodney is cognizant of the fact that he's asking a teenager for advice, for all she looks like a woman. Then again, maybe it's appropriate, considering how he feels so naive sometimes, innocent and awkward like a child.

"Do you want to?" She looks uncertain herself, going from stubborn and argumentative to shy in a heartbeat. "I understand if you don't want to have anything more to do with Dad, or us." She is just a kid, after all, and even though intellectually she's perfectly capable of understanding that Rodney's rejection of John wouldn't be a rejection of her, Rodney can see fear in every bone of her body. She's bracing herself to say goodbye to him.

But Rodney finds that he does want to go back in there and try to fix things with John, more than he's ever needed to do anything. He doesn't think he could stay away from John now. He nods, pausing to pull Bryn to him in a hug. "Of course I want to stay with you. Genius, remember?" Her body sags against him in relief. "But it's not just up to me. It's up to your father too."

"I really hope he doesn't decide to be an idiot," Bryn mumbles into Rodney chest. He thinks she might be crying, but by the time she raises her head, there's only moisture, no more tears falling. "I want to have another little brother."

"Even if I stay, that might not happen," Rodney admits. Whether he'd want to do an in-pouch adoption of the child himself and never see John or his family again or if he'd stay and let the neonate die or be adopted, he doesn't know. But he can't put John through more trauma than he's already been through.

"I know," Bryn replies. "But I'd like it to."

"Me too. But, no matter what happens, I'm so proud of you for doing this." Rodney doubts he ever would have said something like that before, but when you involve kids, you have to improve yourself. Maybe that's what saved John and made him the man that Rodney loves today.

"Good luck, Rodney," Bryn gives him another hug, this one brief, but strong.

"Thanks." Rodney takes a deep breath, bracing himself for a fight before opening the door. He's not surprised to find John sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer, looking contrite and so young.

"You know?" John asks, not meeting Rodney's eyes.

"I know."

"I'm sorry," John mumbles. He looks small, hunched into himself, absently rubbing his chest where Rodney knows the pouch opening must be.

Rodney wants nothing more than to go to him, but he can see how terrified John is, so instead he asks, "Maybe we should go for a walk. Somewhere a little more private?" Also, that'll keep Bryn from spying on them, as he now knows she is prone to do.

John nods, standing up and walking towards the backyard and the bench swing hanging from an old oak.

Rodney is surprised when John practically sits himself in Rodney's lap, leaning his head against Rodney's shoulder with a sigh. John is still silent, trembling with pent-up tension and looking at the leaf-covered ground swinging slowly beneath their feet.

"I'm still mad at you," Rodney blurts out, even as he moves to wrap an arm around John and pull him close.

"I know. I don't blame you." Every stilted syllable hurts. John should never sound so quiet, so devoid of hope.

Except the question is burning in Rodney. It preoccupies him to the exclusion of all else even when he knows that the hurt he feels is probably only a fraction of what John has been feeling all along. "What were you going to do?"

John begins tentatively, but his voice gains strength. "At first I just panicked. I was going to bind because I just couldn't handle carrying again. I skipped therapy until my brother found out and dragged me there, but I couldn't talk about it. I thought that if I could just get rid of it, everything would go back to normal and you wouldn't ever find out. It was a stupid plan and if I had told my therapist or Dave beforehand they probably would've told me so."

"You're right it was a stupid plan, far beneath your level of intelligence," Rodney growls.

"I should've known that I couldn't coordinate that kind of lie. Between the kids and work and your inherent unpredictability, there was no way it could end well. But I wasn't thinking straight."

"But you were going to do it?" Rodney prompts. "You were going to bind?"

John laughs self-deprecatingly. "That was the plan. I tried not to think about it. I orchestrated this giant lie that I'd be away on some top secret project so I could end it, but I didn't really think about how ending it would be. I was going to limit my phone conversations with you, but I couldn't. Every time I heard your voice it was harder to ignore the fact that I was doing all this in order to dispose of our neonate. I didn't bind when I gestated Bryn because I thought it was wrong to end a life I'd created with someone I loved and I still believe that. I didn't think you would want me if you knew I'd killed our child, especially after you asked me if I'd consider having a family with you. But it was too late. Every time I talked to you on the phone, I missed you so much that I couldn't imagine giving up what we had, but then I knew I couldn't just come back and tell you that I'm carrying and have been lying to you without messing that up. Except I fucked it all up anyway."

Rodney knows he should disagree and tell John that everything will be fine, that Rodney still loves him and that he doesn't blame John for his panic, but anger is still simmering deep beneath the sadness and the regret and the hurt. John lied to him and broke the trust between them and that's not something that can simply be repaired, forgiveness or not.

"Rodney?" John finally looks up to meet Rodney's eyes. Time feels suspended, as though all of John's existence hangs on whatever Rodney says next. Maybe it does.

"So you're not going to bind?"

John shakes his head. "I'll do whatever you want, Rodney. Just stay with me."

Rodney wants to tell John that of course he doesn't want John to bind; that it would be killing their child and killing something of what they have together, except that he's just putting John completely at his mercy, just like John was completely at Michael's mercy for years - forced to carry out of powerlessness. "It's your choice, John. I'd prefer that you didn't bind, but there are other options. We could get a surrogate to incubate. If I go to the OBGYNCLO tomorrow, they might be able to open my pouch in time for me to incubate. Or, if you're not willing to raise another child with me, we could do an in-pouch adoption. But I don't want to force you into anything."

John breathes a sigh of relief, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against Rodney's lips. "You're not like him. I _know_ you're not him. I'd never fall in love with you if you were anything like that. I know it could be good with you - like carrying is supposed to be. I want to try, Rodney. I really do, but it's been so long since I could count on myself not to get scared. I might push you away."

"More than you already have?" Rodney blurts out, only to feel guilty a second later when John flinches. "Let's just try. I don't have Guild status so I can't make any claim on you - no right of implied devotion, no ability to excise our child's pedigree. If we don't get married, and we don't have to, then you have full control over everything. I'll stay at my place and come over only when you want me there. If you want, I know we can make it work."

John nods, but he looks sad. "It's not that I don't want those things with you. I'd like to be able to marry you someday and live here together with all our children. I'm just not there yet."

Rodney can understand that. He's still mad, of course. John _lied_ to him and not just a little white lie, but maybe one of the biggest, most hurtful untruths one could inflict on a person. But trust can eventually be rebuilt and John is worth it.

"I'll be here when that day comes," Rodney whispers, planting a tender kiss on John's forehead.

***

Rodney is doing their usual lounging around before bed routine. John bought him a pair of cerulean blue silk pajamas for his birthday that he lovingly refers to as his Hustler Harem Pants and Rodney is happy to comfortably curl up in John's giant bed with Gretta purring in his lap and the latest in the minions' idiocy on his tablet computer.

John is sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, completely entranced by a documentary about surfing, of all things. John has often mentioned always wanting to learn how to surf but never having the time. His longing for it is so clear that Rodney has already roped Bryn into helping him plan a family vacation to Hawaii for after John is finished carrying.

After the credits roll on an all-too-predicable image of the setting sun, Rodney looks up to find John's back to him while he changes into his own nightclothes - a ragged pair of Harvard sweatpants (clearly stolen from his brother). Rodney is surprised when John also goes to pull on a worn t-shirt that says 'Hug People, Not Trees,' because John normally sleeps shirtless.

"Not that I don't agree with the sentiment," Rodney gestures to the shirt, "but why the extra layer?" Rodney has always deeply appreciated the feeling of John's hairy chest as padding for him to sleep on.

John blushes a little, looking down at the shirt's green lettering. "My pouch slit just fully opened. It's really sensitive the first few days."

Rodney can't help what feels like a lightning-bolt of lust that shoots straight through him. He's always been turned on by John's responsiveness, but the idea that John's even more sensitive because they're having a child together almost does Rodney in. He never would have thought he'd find another man carrying his child, especially not someone like John.

"Can I?" Rodney asks, reaching out for John. They still haven't had sex, even though Rodney's been here the whole week after their big fight, only having returned back home to pick up Gretta. Rodney doesn't mind just sleeping pressed up against John, but a part of him can't help but worry if John is no longer attracted to him or if there's some hidden problem that he inadvertently let fester because he's been giving John his space.

"If you want," John smiles, still looking a little embarrassed, though not reluctant. He crosses the room and stands in front of Rodney, waiting for Rodney to lift up his shirt. The pouch slit is a hearty pink color, like blush or the inside of a conch shell. Rodney reaches out and runs just the tip of his index finger along it. The skin is soft and smooth, like a baby's.

John's gasps, trembling and leaning into the touch.

"How much longer?" Rodney asks. John visited the OBGYNCLO today. It isn't routine for carriers to visit the doctor before the transfer, but the scaring from John's Pasteur rupture and the previous damage to his pouch required a checkup. Rodney had wanted to go, but he couldn't bring himself to ask John to let him tag along. John was there for damage related to the past he still works hard to keep away from Rodney and Rodney finds himself more than willing to tiptoe around the minefield of John's past.

"Only a week or two to go." At least John's grin seems genuinely happy. He pats his still-flat stomach, below where Rodney's hand still lingers on the pouch slit. "Then we find out if we'll have another son." Rodney is a little regretful that because John is ZZ and Rodney is ZY, they won't be able to have another daughter. Before, Rodney would've dreaded the prospect of a girl, with the hair-braiding and the princess-obsession, but after getting to know Bryn, he can just imagine a girl with Jeannie's round face and John's dark hair and how beautiful she would be.

"We'll have one," Rodney replies. He's not willing to admit the possibility that the neonate might not have a successful transfer. The success rate is much higher with Imperial carriers like John and the OBGYNCLO said that there should be no ill-effects from John's past trauma. Besides, he can't bring himself to contemplate asking John to gestate again if this neonate fails, even when he knows deep down that he won't be able to stop himself if it comes to that.

He pulls John back onto the bed, spooning up behind him and kissing lightly at the nape of his neck and turning his slow exploration of the pouch slit into a rhythmic massage. John gasps and pushes into his ministrations. Rodney once again marvels at how damn lucky he is to have this man in his arms after all the obstacles that life has put between them.

"Are you nervous?" he asks John. Rodney is nervous. He's read the whole section on carrying in Dave's extensive library (including _Carrying On When You're Carrying_ ) and he still doesn't know what to expect.

John shrugs. "I'm nervous to see if he'll transfer, but you have that 'the universe wouldn't dare defy Rodney Mckay' vibe, so maybe you have enough confidence for both of us. I got labor sickness all my other transfers, but other than being really needy, my other transfers were good memories."

"Bryn just asked me for the thousandth time to get you to change your mind about letting the kids be present for it."

"It's an intimate thing. I love my daughter, but she's too damn nosey for her own good sometimes. Besides, my kids don't need to see me in labor sickness. It's not a pretty sight."

"And me?" Rodney pinches one of John's nipples in punishment.

"It's not a pretty sight because I'll be wrapped around you begging you not to leave me. Knowing your ego, you'll probably enjoy the adulation. Michael did."

"Hey, I'm not Michael," Rodney insists, resenting even the slightest implication that he might hurt John.

"I know that. But you have one trait in common with him - one of the few things I genuinely liked about him. When he was in his element, he was absolutely confident, like you. I try to be like him, with the business. Michael could enter a room full of CEOs and noblemen and his presence alone would make them turn their heads and just listen to whatever he had to say. But when we were together, all he wanted was _my_ attention. He acted as though even a smile from me was the greatest gift in the world. He thought he was entitled to it, yeah, but in the beginning, before it got ugly, I liked feeling as though I held his happiness in my hands."

Rodney turns John around on the bed to face him, looking into those inscrutable hazel eyes and trying to figure out what praise for someone who hurt him so deeply means. Maybe in the world of psychologists and voodoo practitioners, it's a good sign that John can appreciate Michael's good qualities while still condemning the bad. It's probably a good sign that he's willing to discuss it with Rodney at all. But it could also be very bad that John is reminiscing about liking some of the very traits that lead to Michael's obsession with him and eventual abuse.

"He loved me," John whispers. "But I sent him to prison."

"He deserved it," Rodney replies, with conviction.

"He did," John agrees readily. "And I know that I didn't deserve any of the things he did to me. But Michael was sick. He needed help and I think that maybe if I'd stopped it sooner, before it got so bad... If I'd gotten out before Michael could really hurt me and he'd gotten treatment, we'd both be better off."

"Did you love him?" Rodney asks, though he's afraid of the answer.

John shakes his head. "The first year, when it was good between us, I was still fixated on Bryn's donor. I knew Father stopped him from contacting me, but I thought he was still waiting for the day when we could be together again just like I was. After I found out that he'd moved on, I tried to fall in love with Michael. I think, as the donor of my children, I did love him, just not romantically. A part of him knew that, I'm sure."

"Still not your fault."

John doesn't reply and Rodney isn't willing to push it, so he changes the subject back to John's open pouch. "I've never been to a transfer ceremony before. What's it like?"

"I'll be naked most of the time. There's a ceremonial bath and some herbs and all these rituals that are all hazy to me. It'll take about a day, total. But really, the only interesting part is the transfer itself. That's one of the most amazing things you'll ever see. I remember every second from Bryn, Will and Luke and Antony. I know the neonate is just a little worm-looking thing, but I swear you can tell their personalities even then."

John smiles, clearly remembering. "Bryn took her sweet time getting to the pouch. I was terrified she wouldn't make it, but after a slight detour investigating my belly-button she crawled right in. That transfer wasn't very pleasant, because I was begging Michael for Bryn's donor. I think only my father was able to keep him from going off on me by explaining our family's history of labor sickness.

"Luke was the opposite. He couldn't get to the pouch quick enough. He was strong as a neonate, too. Will was pretty fast, too, but he squirmed around like crazy once he got in the pouch. I don't know why it took him so long to latch on. He woke me up pretty regularly when I was incubating him because he somehow lost the nipple and was moving around like he was dancing in there."

"Antony was more like Bryn. He took longer to find the pouch. But it was slow and steady. I only incubated him for a month. I didn't even start to show before, you know. Dave told me all about the incubation, but I hate that I missed it."

Rodney nods, kissing John again and running his fingers through John's hair. "You'll get to incubate this one."

John grins. "I know I freaked out earlier, but I'm really looking forward to that now, getting to be a dad again. I hope the transfer goes well."

"It will." Rodney squeezes John's hand.

"My father offered to fly up from Florida, but I think I'd rather have Dave do the traditional blessings. I don't think I can ever repay him for all he's done for me, but he likes formal, ritualistic displays of affection, so it'll make him happy."

"I don't think you have to repay him anything," Rodney replies, thinking about his conversation with John's brother at the Guild Club. "He just wants what's best for you."

John looks like he might argue, but Rodney silences any protest with a kiss. John leans into it, rubbing his pouch slit up against the silk of Rodney's pajamas for a moment before pulling back and hurriedly unbuttoning them. Rodney reaches one hand down to cup John's ass and uses the other to finger John's pouch slit. With John enthusiastically nipping at Rodney's lip, moaning his approval, Rodney gets bolder, slipping his hand down into the pouch, curious about what it must feel like for the neonate.

John gulps in a few deep, panted breaths, his eyes going unfocused. Lust-addled is a good look on him, Rodney thinks, spreading his fingers out to stretch at the edges of the newly-formed and still-tight pouch.

John's reaction is not the breathy, romantic sigh that Rodney was hoping for, but instead a devastated whimper. John curls in on himself, dislodging Rodney's hand as he barely stops himself from falling to the floor, ending up with his arms wrapped around his knees and rocking, a plaintive whine on his lips.

"John?" John had warned him that he might not cope with the gestation. Still, Rodney had let hope get the better of him and now he finds himself shocked, terrified and unprepared for John's reaction.

John doesn't reply, just keens a little louder, scrambling away from Rodney and straight back into the nightstand, causing the lamp made of old bottle caps that Rodney thinks John either bought at a yard sale or for some exorbitant price from a collector to fall over and shatter.

John startles even more at the sound, burying his face in his knees.

"John," Rodney approaches slowly. All his research didn't offer a universal way to help a person overcome a panic attack. He tries to be calm, even though his heart is beating impossibly fast and he feels a flood of adrenaline making everything sharp and bright.

Rodney reaches out a hand, wanting nothing more than to comfort John, but John flinches away, hitting his head hard against the wall in the process.

The shrink. Dave had given Rodney her phone number! He fumbles around for his pants, where he keeps his wallet. "It's okay," he babbles more to himself than to John. "We'll just call your head-shrinker. No problem. Someone will come over and you'll snap out of this and everything will be just fine." Except John's going to have Rodney's child and he can't stand to have Rodney touch him.

Rodney is madly digging around the pile of clothes in John's large closet when a knock on the door startles him. "Dad? Rodney? You guys okay in there?"

It's Will.

Rodney practically dives for the door, revealing John's middle son in a sweaty cheerleading uniform.

"I heard something break," Will says, eyeing Rodney's unbuttoned blue pajamas. "Do you want me to get a trashbag?"

Rodney's at a loss for words, so he just grabs Will by the hand and yanks him into the room, pointing to where John is still curled up in the corner, cradling the pouch slit on his chest as though it's a gaping wound, not something wonderful.

"Shit," Will says. "What happened?"

"I asked if I could touch his pouch slit. At first he liked it." Rodney is aware that John's son probably doesn't need to hear about his father's sex life, but it's relevant. "Then he went crazy. When I tried to touch him he backed into the corner. I don't know what to do. There isn't a user's manual for this sort of thing. Your Uncle gave me a number. I should call the number. Or maybe 911."

"Don't call 911," Will orders. "It's just a flashback. If you triggered it, you should go wait in the hall. Dr. Heightmeyer's number is posted on the emergency list on the fridge. It doesn't look too bad. I'll see if I can snap him out of it."

Rodney nods, watching as Will approaches his father, making comforting sounds and saying, "Daddy, I need you to stop that." It must be a practiced strategy, Rodney realizes, for Will to make himself sound younger and as though he needs his father's help. John looks up, but when he sees Rodney he looks away. "Talk to Dr. Kate. She'll explain," Will commands, not taking his focus off his father, even when Rodney leaves the room.

Rodney runs down the stairs and to the kitchen on autopilot, his hands shaking as he dials the number for Dr. Kate Heightmeyer.

"Hello?" She has a pleasant voice, with precise enunciation. She's a shrink, so that's to be expected.

Rodney doesn't know how to begin so he just blurts out, "John is having a panic attack. Will told me to call you. I don't know what to do? Is it serious? Maybe you should come over here. I'm not exactly an expert at this kind of thing and--"

"John Sheppard?" she asks, cutting him off.

"Yes, yes, John Sheppard, the guy whose ex-husband nearly killed him and his son."

"He is my patient. And you must be Rodney?" she guesses.

"Yes. How did you know that?"

"John mentioned that his boyfriend might have trouble coping with a dissociative state. What John needs right now is for you to stay calm and tell me exactly what happened."

Rodney takes a few deep breaths with Heightmeyer guiding him before he gives her the details.

"I see. You inadvertently stumbled into a behavior that John's ex-husband did as a show of possession and dominance over him. Something like this was inevitable. John has worked hard on the triggers that occur during every-day life, but we have had very little time to prepare for the psychological consequences of his carrying again."

"He's seeing you three times a week!" Rodney protests.

"The psyche isn't an exact science, Rodney."

"You don't need a Phd. in psychobabble to tell me that that," Rodney grumbles.

Heightmeyer ignores the comment in favor of asking, "What's he doing now?"

"I don't know. His son is with him."

"Which one?" she asks immediately, sounding less than calm for the first time since she picked up the phone. After a second, Rodney realizes that she might be concerned that John is having a flashback alone with Antony.

Rodney is quick to reassure, "he's with Will."

"Good. Will is a very calming social support for his father. He's never failed to talk John down from a panicked state. My recommendation is to wait for Will to calm him down and then let him ask John if he's ready to interact with you. If he is, then go to him. Let him initiate any touching. Because you triggered the flashback, he may not want to see you at all. John has a prescription medication to take after an episode like this, but while he's gestating, I would recommend against it. He's normally very tired after a flashback, so get him into bed and keep him quiet. Please tell him to call me first thing tomorrow morning."

Rodney doesn't want to hang up the phone and lose the safe, confident voice on the other end, but eventually he has to. He trudges back up the stairs feeling like his feet each weigh a hundred kilos, but he makes it to the top, sliding down the wall and letting his head fall into his hands panting softly trying find his own calm.

Five minutes later, Will pokes his head out, giving Rodney a wane smile. "He's talking now. He wants to see you."

"The doctor said to not give him any medication. The baby--"

"He already told me that. Come on in," Will waves encouragingly. He doesn't seem at all bothered by his father completely zoning out. Maybe he's grown used to it as a routine or maybe he's just that calm a kid.

John is out of the corner and in bed now, curled up on his side with the blankets pulled up around his neck. He pushes up to a seated position and fights a sleepy-eyed yawn when Rodney enters.

"So now you've seen that," John says, with a self-deprecating laugh. "Good job, John, act like a total fucking lunatic just because the donor of your child wants to touch you."

"Hey, you're entitled," Rodney tries to justify. With John it's a tough line to walk between the kind of sympathy that makes him resentful and showing John that he'll support him, no matter how ugly the symptoms of his trauma become.

"I still wish you didn't have to see that," John says. Privately, Rodney agrees.

"You're okay now, right?"

John smiles. "Yeah. And Will just earned himself driving privileges on the Corvette this weekend. You installed the speed regulator, right?"

"Yep," Rodney laughs, nervously, wondering how John can seem so calm after an episode like that. "I still think you're crazy for not setting it at sixty-five, but I gave him up to ninety."

"Good. Any faster than that is--"

"Exactly how fast you like to drive," Rodney jokes.

John motions for him to sit down and Rodney does so stiffly, wary of another panic attack. John doesn't seem in the least bit concerned, however, leaning his whole body against Rodney with a happy sigh.

"Your shrink said that Michael used to touch you like that."

John nods. "He'd pull me against his chest and stick both his hands into the pouch and tell me that I was all his and nobody else could put anything in there but him."

"Well, I won't be doing that anytime soon."

"You might have to. Kate believes in exposure therapy. I feel more in control now. I wasn't expecting it, that's all."

Rodney isn't so sure the whole episode can be dismissed as surprise, but he's not going to call John on it. Instead he says, "I don't want you to have to suffer through something that should feel good."

"It did feel good. I liked having you touch me there. I liked being reminded who caused my pouch to open."

Rodney smiles, turning a little so he can press a soft kiss against John's lips.

"I'm almost there, Rodney," John whispers. "I'm so close to completely overcoming all this shit that I can taste it. And now that you're here to work on things with me, it might even go faster."

It sounds like a pipe dream, being completely at peace with the past, but then again, John is used to getting his way in pretty much every other aspect of life. "I don't think it'll ever be like nothing happened."

"No, I have three kids by that man and I got to keep my only daughter and get to really know my brother all because of him. If I hadn't married Michael, I was determined to do the family miltary service and I would've fallen in love with fighter jets instead of the puddlejumpers they let you fly with a recreational license and I might never have had a family or gotten my engineering degree or met you. So it'll never be as though Michael never happened. But, don't fight me on this, Rodney. I think we have a chance of being a normal couple."

Rodney doesn't understand how John feels that way especially after a display of exactly how not-normal things are. Rodney knows someday they need to talk about this, but for now he goes along with it, joking, "As normal as you and I could ever be, you mean."

John nods, pulling Rodney into a crushing, passionate kiss.

Rodney's libido is saying 'all hands on deck, full speed ahead,' but he's cognisant of the fact that John was non-responsive in a corner twenty minutes ago. "Let's take it easy," he protests.

John rolls his eyes. "No, let's not. I promise, the worse that can happen is that I'll freak out a little." That wasn't a little, as far as Rodney's concerned. His heart is still hammering away in his chest for fear that it will happen again, but John has a maniac gleam in his eye. He's not going to let this go. "So what if I panic? You saw me freak out a little and we're both still here. I let my own stupid baggage keep me celibate all those years. I almost let it deny me the chance to have a family with you. But it's just something that happened fifteen years ago. I should be over it and I'm going to be."

Rodney isn't sure what Kate Heightmeyer would say about John's new gung-ho attitude towards his very legitimate PTSD, but with John kissing him so enthusiastically, it's hard to disagree. Before he knows it, Rodney's naked and flat on his back with John rubbing slowly against him, encouraging Rodney to finger his pouch slit, despite Rodney's reluctance.

Afterwards, they're cuddled up together, panting down from a slow-burning, intense orgasm. Rodney remarks, "Your shrink told me you'd be tired and needed to be put to bed."

"You put me to bed," John leers.

Rodney hits him with a pillow, but long after John has drifted off to sleep, not taking his own panic seriously, Rodney's still up, wondering how long John's new attitude will last and whether wanting everything to be normal can make it so.

***

Rodney isn't expecting things to go back to normal and they don't. They actually get better. John is inscrutable as always, but Bryn and Luke assure Rodney that their father has never been happier.

The transfer goes without a hitch with just Rodney and Dave there for moral support. John's four kids have already given him ample practice with it, but his eyes still shine like its some kind of once-in-a-lifetime miracle.

The kids are upset about missing the transfer, though Luke wasn't sure about spending so much time looking at his Dad's naked body. But Rodney placates them by running out the very second the neonate has found the pouch to let them know that it was a success.

As the days go on, John's pouch stretches and Rodney spends more and more time at the Sheppard mansion, until one day he realizes that he hasn't been back to his condo in two weeks and that his cat doesn't even seem to want to go back there. Still he doesn't push it.  
His relationship with John is far from set in stone, and even if one day they do get married, Rodney might like to have a place with a prescription mattress to sleep on instead of the couch in the event of a fight or John just needing his space. It's not as though they don't have the money to keep it. As two owners of very successful companies, they're a power couple, Rodney realizes with vicious pleasure.

John's response to his expanding pouch is part routine, part denial. He's clearly used to carrying, by the absent way he cradles the baby bump to the way he sleeps comfortably on his side without complaint, despite always having been a back-sleeper so long as Rodney has known him. But on the other hand, John is going to some extremes to hide the obvious signs of his incubation. He's always worked partially from home in order to spend more time with the kids, but now he's dedicated to video-conferencing, wearing an Oxford with sweatpants and his slippers.

Rodney can't keep the smile off his face when he enters the office to find John with his fluffy tiger-print slippers propped up on a bean bag, one hand over his slight baby bump and the other throwing a paper airplane into the air while he talks on his headset.

"Well, tell Raymond that I want the stock price down another fifty points before I buy it," John says, seeming at home with his business transactions as always. "Look, I have to go. Fifty points and not a cent less."

Whoever John's talking to must acquiesce, because John's smirking when he hangs up, rising to greet Rodney with a kiss.

"How're things down in the R&D division?" John asks. Now that he's restricted himself from public appearances for the past month, he's starting to get a little stir crazy. Even Will has noticed it and has been begging Rodney to come home early and distract John from micromanaging them all.

Rodney shrugs. He's quite enjoying his work with John's head engineer, Radek Zelenka, but he's not about to admit that to anyone. John is one of those 'supportive' bosses when it comes to offering people compliments and the last thing Rodney needs is for him to undermine Rodney's carefully crafted reputation as a cranky, demanding, prima donna who commands the obedience and attention of the entire staff. In fact, in John's absence, he's established quite the following.

"Did you happen to get a look at the anti-replicator weapons? Dr. Lee assures me that they're coming along nicely, but you were completely right to point out that he has absolutely no common sense. Oh, and I really should check on the new unmanned drones. They are for the domestic military, but no less important. Then there's the whole Devlin mess."

Rodney shakes his head, reeling John in and kissing his forehead. "The Devlin mess is why you hired Jennifer, remember? And Dr. Lee may have no common sense, but you have a top-of-the-line fire-retardant system. It can't hurt you to take a break, you know?"

"Like you take breaks?" John scoffs. "I've personally watched you down fifteen shots of espresso just to avoid taking a break for _sleeping_. This stuff is important and I--"

"Have an entire army of managers who you hired personally who will probably be relieved that you're letting them do their jobs for once. Seriously, John, you need to keep your blood pressure down for the baby's sake."

"I'm not a woman, Rodney," John snaps. "Sheppard men have gone to war further along in the incubation than I am." John pats his small belly as though that proves anything.

"Good for them. That doesn't make me worry any less."

John sighs, walking over to slump down into one of his beanbag chairs even though the both know that it's becoming increasingly hard for him to get up out of them without help. "I know, Rodney. And you have a right to be worried, no matter how irrational that worry is. It is your child. But I feel like I did this already - cooped up in the house because I'm carrying and it's too dangerous to be in the outside world. Michael demanded I not leave the house, telling me that it was for the good of the children. I believed him at first. But really he was just a jealous bastard who wanted to control every aspect of my life."

John's right and Rodney feels immediately guilty even though he knows he shouldn't. He plops down on the beanbag next to John, grabbing his hand and stroking his thumb down the back of it. "You can go out of the house anytime you want, John. But looking at you now, people are going to know you're carrying."

"God, Rodney, I know. I feel like I'm going to explode just sitting here and not knowing what's going on with my business." Other than the hundreds of emails, status reports, and video conferences John gets a day. "But I'm not sure I can take the stupid paparazzi and those guild society gossips all over me. That's one thing I've been incredibly lucky to avoid so far."

Rodney understands. He's not looking forward to John's incubation being public either. And if he were John, he'd be ashamed - getting knocked up by an unregistered carrier, explaining to strangers that he's not marrying that man, falling so far from the center of guild society and being judged by the millions of readers of the stupid guild papers and the society blogs.

"Well, somebody's going to have to know at some point," Rodney remarks. "You can't just add a name to the Sheppard pedigree without anybody noticing."

John nods. "I know. I'm being stupid. I guess I just wanted to delay the inevitable."

"Hey," Rodney says, leaning over to give John a kiss. "this past month has been a nice vacation." Rodney has been working less, too, and they've been working on their domestic routine, from long walks on the grounds to family dinners to sleeping curled against each other in John's big bed. "You can go out and make your incubation known whenever and however you want. I'll understand if you don't want to mention me."

That comment has John struggling agitatedly up out of his slouch, taking Rodney's hands and pulling until John is practically in his lap. "Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to mention you. Can you imagine the kind of field day the socialite gossips will have if I don't name the donor? Unless you don't want people to know." John looks down, studying their joined hands. "I can understand if you don't want people dragging your name through the mud."

Rodney actually laughs at that. "You think I care? People hate me already in the scientific and business world, but they know I'm the best. People can hate me for having a child with the most attractive, eligible bachelor on this planet too. It's a drop in the bucket, really." What Rodney doesn't mention is the excited thrill that runs through him knowing that John actually _wants_ to present him as the donor of his child to the world.

John's grin is brilliant as he leans even further into Rodney to kiss him. "Then I'll have Dave set up an announcement: Rodney McKay is John Sheppard's Baby-Deedee and they couldn't be happier."

"And you can go harass your minions again," Rodney remarks.

"I don't have minions. You have minions. I have _employees._ "

"Fair enough," Rodney says, blushing as John keeps falling forward, kissing at Rodney's neck and pulling at the buttons on his shirt. It's a little awkward when John struggles to stand and pull off his sweatpants before returning to straddle Rodney.

Rodney gasps into John's hot mouth, grabbing the back of his head to pull him into a controlling, possessive kiss. He's amazed that despite his past and the fragile life pressed in between them, John doesn't pull away, but instead deepens the kiss into all-out frenzy.

"Jesus Christ," Rodney whimpers, unbuttoning John's shirt and caressing the bulge of his belly beneath. "How did this even happen?"

"Well, when a boy meets another boy and--"

Rodney swats at John playfully, pulling him close enough that he can feel the pouch brush up against his chest. "I mean how did I even get such an amazing man in my arms, carrying my child?"

"I think if I answer that I'm in danger of inflating your already dangerously over-inflated ego," John replies, kissing a line down Rodney's neck to suck on a sensitive nipple, flicking his finger against the other one until Rodney is gasping and squirming, pressing his erection up into John in search of friction, any friction.

John seems amused by his struggles, but finally takes mercy on Rodney by unzipping his fly and producing a condom seemingly out of nowhere.

"Where did that come from?" Rodney demands.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," John whispers, sucking on Rodney's neck like a horny teenager as he slides the condom onto Rodney's aching cock.

Then in another magic trick, John is suddenly sinking down onto Rodney with an easy grace in stark contrast to his awkward wrestling with his belly from earlier. Clearly, John just needs the right motivation.

John gasps, lacing his fingers together with Rodney's to push against and gain traction to lift and lower himself slowly on Rodney's hard length. His cheeks are flushed and he gives the smallest of gasps every time the movement brushes against his prostate.

Rodney himself is lost in a haze of lust but he looks above him and marvels at the man he loves, incubating his child, making love to Rodney with such wild passion.

John isn't damaged, he thinks. He can't be damaged when he looks so exquisite, so uncomplicated in his desire for Rodney and the pleasure he's currently taking.

Someone may have hurt John once, but he survived, grew stronger because of it and now he's simply radiant. There are still so many things that could go wrong: John's past trauma, their relationship, the implications of their relationship for their respective companies, and, of course, the baby who will soon be a person capable of adding his own problems to the giant pile of baggage John and Rodney have spent a lifetime building up. They will never be "normal," despite John's insistence that he can transform himself by force of will alone. But not only is "normal" a completely arbitrary social construction, Rodney thinks "normal" is overrated anyway. Rodney would be happy if John never had another flashback, but then he wouldn't be the man leaning back to expose his delicate neck, crying out from pleasure when he comes, squeezing tight around Rodney - this is the man who Rodney first met across a desk, practically glowing with strength and power. This is the man Rodney loves and he wouldn't trade him for "normal," no matter how hard life gets.

***

"Rodney, you're going to wear a hole in my floor!" Jennifer Keller exclaims, looking up from the chart she's reviewing to shoot Rodney a glare. Rodney doesn't understand it, but somehow in the past few months Jennifer's office has become a refuge. First they bonded as the two new faces in the classified wing of Sheppard Industries R&D. Jennifer is the head of the new medical research auditing unit, formed after some disaster with a sub-contractor.

Now, Rodney is in Jennifer's office practically every day asking her about various aspects of the noble birthing process. Today, he's concerned about how John's levels of stress might affect their child.

"For the last time, Rodney, you cannot transmit high blood pressure, cholesterol, or stress to a baby in the pouch. Excessive movement," she looks at Rodney's fidgeting hands pointedly, "can disturb a baby's sleep patterns, but because the baby isn't connected to the blood supply, it only receives the substances that the body can put into milk. If you'd just let me look at you--"

Rodney rolls his eyes. "It's not for me."

Rodney can tell by the suspicious twinkle in Jennifer's eye that she doesn't believe him. "Rodney, I wasn't born yesterday. Your level of interest is nowhere near simple curiosity. If you're carrying, you can tell me. I'm your friend, but I'm also a doctor. Doctor-patient confidentiality applies."

"Fine, maybe I do have a personal interest. But I'm not the one carrying."

Jennifer's eyes widen almost comically before she delivers a hard punch to Rodney's arm. "You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me!"

"Ow!" Rodney complains. He knows he should have discouraged Jennifer from participating in the company's fitness training program.

"Serves you right." She's petulant for just a second before her curiosity overwhelms her anger at Rodney. "So, tell me about this guy? Where's he from? Is he cute? How far along is he?"

Rodney shakes his head. "You'll find out soon enough," he mumbles.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jennifer asks.

Rodney looks at his watch. John and Dave will be here soon to make the announcement. "Come on. We're going to be late for Mr. Sheppard's announcement."

"But Rodney," Jennifer whines, "can't you just tell me on the way."

Rodney shakes his head, rubbing his sweating palms against the well-tailored pants Dave had insisted he wear for the occasion. He doesn't know what the problem was with the comfortable suit that Elizabeth bought him for his Lockheed Martin meeting a few years back. He can sweat through this year's fashionable black suit and too-tight tie at the same rate he can sweat through something less stylish.

"So what do you think Sheppard's going to announce?" Rodney tries to distract Jennifer from her obsession with this baby business.

"Something big," Jennifer replies. "Maybe a new contract. I mean, according to Bill, Sheppard used to come around all the time, but I haven't seen him once since he hired me. Whatever could keep him occupied for that long must be really important."

In Rodney's world, yes, but he wonders what Jennifer will think of him when she finds out that John's big secret is nothing more than having a child - something people do every day. He's not looking forward to Jennifer's reaction when she finds out that she's been gossiping with the boss's boyfriend this whole time. But Rodney has been a good friend and hasn't told John about how terrified Jennifer was when John interviewed her, so maybe he won't be in too much trouble.

The employees patiently gather in the main auditorium that links the various parts of the central R&D division. People are talking in low whispers. Jennifer sits down in back row, but Rodney excuses himself, telling her that he'll see her later. He spots Dave beckoning to him from one of the side doors and follows him backstage.

John is dressed properly in a paternity suit that probably costs more than Rodney's first car. His cheeks are a little flushed and his eyes dazed, but he's not panicking the way Rodney probably would be if he were in John's position right now. In fact, he's already panicking, looking between John and Dave nervously.

"What am I supposed to do again?" he asks, distracted by Dave bouncing up and down a little to keep the child peaking out of his own pouch entertained.

"Just stand there and look pretty," Dave answers, not at all bothered by his son's happy baby babble. "John will make the announcement. You'll smile and look like a happy couple for a press photo and then you'll take the rest of the afternoon off."

"I think I can do that," Rodney squeaks in nervousness.

"Well, you are a genius," John replies, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"I am," Rodney agrees.

"So are we going to do this thing?" John asks, squeezing Rodney's hand.

"It's not as though we have a choice."

Dave just rolls his eyes, looking at his watch. "It's time."

When they step out onto the stage, whispers start. John's pouch is swollen enough to be obvious now, but despite the whispers, he appears cool and confident. "Well, it's probably not the news you were all expecting. I just wanted to let all of you know that I will soon be inducting a new heir into my family tree. Many of you know my child's donor, Dr. Rodney McKay."

Rodney steps forward and waves awkwardly, noting the way the lines of Dave Sheppard's smile tighten a little with the gesture. Right, Rodney's just supposed to stand there and look pretty.

"Rodney and I are not planning to marry at this time. He will be added to the Sheppard pedigree in the upcoming registration ceremony. However, nothing with regard to the company will change. Sheppard Industries is not planning a merger with McKay-Weir and Rodney is still a subcontractor, with the same rights, privileges and due diligence given to our other subcontractors. Please don't treat him with any more power or weight in the company's decision-making process than you already do. He can't actually fire anyone. I'm serious, he's already thinking of some of you as his minions."

That gets a laugh from a few people in the classified projects division. Rodney remembers their faces for later punishment.

"That being said," John gives the audience a winning smile. "Rodney and I are incredibly happy together. Back to work."

Even though he never anticipated having his relationship announced to all his work colleagues, Rodney can't seem to stop smiling. John just told many of his employees that he's in a relationship with Rodney, so he can't take it back, or pretend it never happened or any of the other things John would almost certainly never do anyhow. But it still feels like an extra level of relationship security to Rodney. Not to mention the immense feeling of joy of having hard evidence that John not only isn't embarrassed by their relationship, but is willing to shout out to his _employees_ how happy he is.

And John is happy about it, the weight that seemed to hang over him from earlier is suddenly lifted. "Good job, John. You know you could take care of more of the PR functions if you wanted," Dave comments.

"But you enjoy press conferences so much," John teases. "I wouldn't want to rob you of that."

Dave pretends to be put-upon but he looks happy also (as happy as Rodney imagines someone with such a stick up his ass is capable of being). Rodney admits that Dave isn't so bad, but he probably needs just as much therapy as John to deal with his obvious control issues.

"I've hired a Guild car to take us to lunch at the club. Then we can head back home," Dave offers.

"Let me just check on the UAV project," John begs, already moving off towards the labs.

Dave rolls his eyes. "So much for the afternoon off." He reaches down to his pouch to scoop up his son. "Well, Jerome, it looks like it's you and me for the afternoon," he remarks. But before John can wander off, Dave stops him. "John," he steps forward to embrace his brother. "Congratulations."

John nods, awkwardly returning the hug.

Dave shakes Rodney's hand. "Don't let him work too hard," Dave commands. "Darren and I are still expecting you two and the kids for dinner tonight."

Rodney nods, feeling as though he and Dave are somehow more connected - that now they don't just share John's love, but the responsibility of taking care of him.

"See you tonight," he manages before John drags him off.

"Actually, maybe I should check in with Dr. Keller in the medical auditing division first. I haven't even found out how she's settling in," John comments, yanking Rodney a different direction and smiling at the employees that are congratulating him.

Great, Rodney's going to be in real trouble now.

Luckily for him Jennifer doesn't do much more than deliver another annoyed punch to his arm and harang John about all the questions Rodney has been asking. John can only respond that if Rodney really were carrying, Jennifer would certainly have heard about it, in great detail, with body scans and daily check-ups.

After a few more hours of John getting updated on the various projects in the classified division they round up the kids and head over to Dave's place. Bryn and Luke have a new boyfriend, who they are excited gossip about to their Uncle Darren (the designated "cool parent" in the trio). The grand total of the boyfriend's talents are apparently "in a band" and "gorgeous eyes." Rodney is saved from the backlash that would result from questioning those talents by a well-placed kick from Dave. When the kids run out to the backyard to pick some apples for dessert, Rodney tries to ask John's opinion on the boyfriend, but his response is limited to, "All my children are virgins," which Darren finds hilarious right up until John reminds him that Malik is approaching _that age_.

The doublets are so determined to get Rodney to watch Dr. Doolittle with them that he has to borrow kidnapping evasion techniques he learned from Lorne to shut himself in the study where John and Dave are sharing a good laugh at the society blogs and their comments on John's announcements. Mostly it's trivial gossip about the circumstances of John and Rodney's romance (like maybe Rodney built John a fighter jet as an anniversary gift or that John's long absence from the social scene was because he'd been secretly dating Rodney). A few of them disapprove of the Sheppard heir extending his pedigree to an unregistered carrier, which makes John pull Rodney close to reassure him. Others briefly speculate on John's past marriage, though Dave has done a good job keeping any details from leaking out. Rodney's favorite is Jim Cramer holding up a plastic baby in one hand and a stack of cash in the other and shouting, "Baby equals buy!" Apparently, even though John emphasized the fact that there'd be no dynastic merger, McKay-Weir's stock price will benefit from their announcement. Rodney wonders if Elizabeth will accept that as a birthday present.

When it gets late without a major PR disaster, Dave declares victory and they all toast with sparkling cider. Rodney's boyfriend is practically glowing, soothing the movements of his child absently. John has never looked more beautiful.

All in all, it's a happy day. Rodney hopes the first of many to come.

***

John is sitting on a bale of hay next to the arena where Bryn is practicing her jumps for an upcoming competition. A few short months ago, Rodney would have been uncomfortable with a man in John's stage of incubation, with his pouch so swollen that he needs a paternity suit rather than the loose t-shirts he wasn't really fooling anyone with earlier in the incubation. His pouch slit has already started to open again in preparation for the emergence.

John is wearing a shabby old paternity suit that he must have had since the 1980s, with that too-light faded jean design and an emergence slit lined in a fairly hideous teal color. John completes the look by cupping one hand beneath his bulging belly and the other finding a piece of hay to chew like some dull-eyed farm boy.

Rodney laughs, dropping down beside John and putting an arm around him. "I'm having flashbacks to the Beverly Hillbillies," he jokes, giving John a brief kiss hello.

"One of the good things about incubating is the excuse to be a slob."

"I think your brother would beg to differ." The two of them have shared quite a few laughs at Dave's expense concerning the frequency with which his newly emerged son manages to dirty his expensive paternity suits.

"Well my brother is a different breed."

"You can say that again. Should you even be out here? You could catch a cold."

John rolls his eyes. "I knew you'd be out here in five minutes to keep me warm anyhow."

Rodney blushes a little. He's guilty of crowding John the past few days, but the OBGYNCLO thinks that little Max might emerge soon and Rodney is determined not to miss it. John is a little annoyed, but doesn't really protest.

"How's it going?" Rodney asks, nodding to where Bryn is circling the arena.

John shrugs. "She's always been a natural, just doesn't practice enough. Sometimes I wonder if Bryn even thinks about anything other than who she and Luke are going to marry one day. She's lucky she inherited enough smarts from her donor so that she can afford to spend at least half her brainpower on daydreaming."

Rodney laughs. "Do you really blame her for believing in true luuuuuv?"

John turns to give Rodney a peck on the lips that's more of a love nip than a kiss. "I don't really blame her, now that we've given her such a righteous example."

Rodney scoffs. "We're a shining example of how to be brilliantly dysfunctional together, you mean."

"Same difference," John admits, leaning into a lengthier, more intimate kiss.

Rodney smiles into the kiss, cupping John's belly with one hand, waiting for the anxious shifting that has characterized the past few weeks of John's incubation. Their son is certainly hyper.

John moans, overbalancing so that he's pretty much pressing his sensitive pouch into Rodney.

"If we keep this up, I'm going to end up with another pouch parasite," John complains, without making a single move away from Rodney's caresses.

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing," Rodney offers. All the trauma he and John were expecting to fall around their heads simply never happened. Secretly Rodney thinks its because John's first experiences carrying were so bad that this time is entirely new to him - like the first time all over again.

"Maybe not. But if you knock me up again, you are _so_ incubating. My back is already killing me and he's going to be in there for _months_ still."

"Sounds like a plan," Rodney agrees, leaning back into the hay, ignoring the itch-factor and dragging John over until he's above him, cupping his cheek and kissing him until their lips are both swollen.

"Dad, Rodney!" Bryn yells, exasperatedly. "Stop it! You're distracting me."

John laughs, giving Rodney a final kiss before shouting over his shoulder. "Sorry, sweetheart!"

"Yeah right," Bryn mumbles, but goes back to ignoring them in favor of concentrating on her jumps.

As John pushes himself back, suddenly he gasps, touching a hand to his belly to unbuckle the closure on the slit in his paternity suit.

"John?" Rodney asks.

"He's coming," John gasps, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

Before Rodney has time to even register the awe that has completely blindsided him, a small hand emerges from the slit in John's clothes and Rodney hears an excited shriek of baby babble.

John reaches a hand down to cradle a mop of light blond hair as Max pulls himself up to peak out at Rodney with wide blue eyes.

"Oh my god," Rodney whispers. After a moment marveling at the tiny nose and fingers and strange giggle of his son, he notes, "I forgot the video camera."

John laughs, stroking Max's head and reaching out to capture Rodney's hand and bring it to touch the baby's sweaty hair.

Rodney hadn't even noticed Bryn dismounting her horse until she's suddenly standing beside him. "Oh Daddy!" she exclaims. "He's gorgeous."

Rodney can do nothing but nod until Bryn pokes him. "You're a donor, Rodney. C'mon, let's go celebrate."

Rodney nods absently, watching Bryn sprint off, no doubt to tell her brothers. He's barely with it enough to help John up so they can walk back to the house, their newly emerged child taking his first excited look at the world from the safety of John's pouch.

"You hear that, Deedee?" John somehow manages to elbow Rodney in the ribs at the same time he's reaching down to lift Max out of the pouch. He cries a little at the sudden movement, and he's still covered in some gunk from his long months in a sealed pouch, but Rodney has never seen anything more beautiful.

Rodney stumbles to halt, still struck by disbelief. Not long ago he'd been a lonely scientist with nothing but his work for company and now he's got a job fixing spaceships, an amazing boyfriend, and a _family_. John laughs, stopping and ignoring the commotion of the kids spilling out the front door and running towards them in order to pull Rodney in for a tender kiss, their son cradled between them.

Then John is pressing little Max into Rodney's arms and though Rodney could have sworn a few seconds ago that he couldn't be happier, he feels a deep-seated contentment like nothing he's ever experienced before with his son's small weight in his arms.

John indulges Rodney's moment for a second before nudging him. "C'mon, Deedee, let's get me and this little guy cleaned up and then you can have whatever you want - video camera, an 'I told you so' chat with your sister, cake."

"Mmmm, cake," Rodney mumbles, completely focused on the squirming child in his arms.

"We could even get started on another one," John adds with a wink.

Rodney's not sure he's ready for that quite yet, or ready to talk to his sister, but what he does know is that this feeling of pure happiness has him ready to burst and judging by the bright smile on John's face, he feels the same.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," John replies.

"Can I hold him?" Luke is shouting at the same time Will remarks on how small Max is.

Rodney lets the rowdy sounds of the Sheppard kids wash over him, just happy with all of existence for once in his life.


End file.
